Fight For It
by Maddie-the-Muse
Summary: Testosterone and sexual tensions run high between two of La Push's protectors. Their continual fighting and struggle for dominance leads to one of them taking things to the next level, but at what cost? Questions of choice vs. destiny, sexual identity, social acceptance and a sense of belonging are all drawn to the forefront as the boys work through their battle. *m/m slash*
1. Closing The Gap

**Author: **Maddie-the-Muse

**Pairing: **two wolves - not identified for the first couple of chapters

**Genre: **angst, hurt/comfort, romance, slash, smut (I'm not even going to try and fool anyone)

**Universe: **New Moon/AU - Deals primarily with the pack with not much involvement from the Vampires. The pack is in its early stages through most of the story, not all of the wolves have phased yet. I have adjusted the ages of the wolves, simply because I can't imagine them as young as they are - they have never really been 16 in my mind. It also didn't make sense to me that half of the ancestors to the last pack would all be the same age. Ages as follows: Sam-20, Leah-19, Jared-18, Paul-18, Embry-17, Jacob-17, Quil-16 (same grade as Embry and Jake), Seth-14, Brady-13, Colin-13

**Warning: **This is a **m/m slash** story. If this isn't your thing, please don't read it and then complain about it.

**Summary: **Testosterone and sexual tensions run high between two of La Push's protectors. Their continual fighting and struggle for dominance leads to one of them taking things to the next level, but at what cost? Questions of choice vs. destiny, sexual identity, social acceptance and a sense of belonging are all drawn to the forefront as the boys work through their battle.

**Pre-Reader:** maLorLa

**Beta:** Maria Vilson

**Disclaimer:** The following is based on the characters, settings, and events from the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. All recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The author, known by the pen name Maddie-the-Muse, is in no way associated with Stephenie Meyer, or the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise related to The Twilight series. Only aspects entirely unique and original to this story are owned by this story's author. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapter 1: Closing the Gap**

His fist connected with my jaw and made my head snap sideways. The pain ricocheted through my jaw and down my neck, but I couldn't give in to it. I needed to keep my eyes on him or he would fucking kill me. He hit me again, and again; the sound of my teeth crashing together echoed in my head.

When did this kid get so fucking strong?

We had been fighting like this on shortening intervals for weeks. It was always the same thing; I'd set his anger off somehow, he'd fucking pound on me, and then we'd be fine again for another few days until the whole thing started up again.

He leaned his shoulder into my chest pushing heavily against me and I couldn't keep from stumbling backwards. I crashed into something behind me, hard, knocking the air out of my lungs. He was glaring at me, with his forearm across my chest pinning me to the tree at my back. He had his face right up in mine and his breathing was as ragged as my own.

"Enough," he panted. We'd been going at each other for a while and I couldn't even remember what I had done to set him off this time—had I done anything? His eyes bored holes through me with the intensity of the look he gave me. We both heaved and puffed, trying desperately to draw enough air into our fatigued lungs.

Fuck! I couldn't take it anymore, not with him right there, with his hot breath fanning out across my face. He was already primed to fucking beat me to death; why not make it worth something?

I clamped my hand on his neck and closed the gap between us, quickly taking his mouth in a hard kiss.

Shocked, he pulled back, his eyebrows knit together in confusion as his eyes scanned mine for some answer. I held fast to his neck, waiting for his reaction; good or, more likely, bad and fucking painful. Without warning, in one smooth movement, his arm was no longer pinning me to the tree but had been replaced with his hard, sweaty body. His mouth was hot and hungry at mine, his hand roughly gripping my hip and hauling me toward him.

After a long, heated moment, he pulled away enough to search my eyes again. "You're not gay," his statement sounded more like an accusation.

I watched him, and shook my head. We had all suspected that he might swing that way, although none of us had any way of knowing for sure. I couldn't really remember when it had started or how, but recently all I could think about was being with him; that is probably what led to us trying to fucking kill each other on a regular basis. I'm not gay, but I can't be entirely straight either if I want him so badly.

I was hardly breathing, waiting for his response, but he didn't say anything more for a long time; he just watched me, his brow still furrowed, searching for something. Maybe he thought I was messing with him, maybe he was hopeful I wasn't; I didn't really care what was going through his mind, all I could think about was how good it had felt to finally kiss him and how much I wanted to do it again.

"What about the rest of the pack?" he asked eventually. I watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed thickly, and licked his lips.

"I don't care," I replied with a shrug, digging my fingertips into the hair at the back of his neck; reminding him; encouraging him.

"What do you want from this?" he asked, his voice strained and reserved, not giving away anything of what he wanted himself. He hadn't hit me and he hadn't stepped back from me, those had to be indications of something positive, right?

"Right now, I want you to kiss me again," I acknowledged, urging him forward.

He braced his arm on the tree trunk beside my head, stopping me from pulling him into me any further. "And then what?" His face was serious.

"Fuck, you know I think with my dick," I snapped. I grabbed his hand that still clutched my hip and pressed it flat against the raging hard-on in my shorts. "You tell me, then what?" My eyes fluttered shut and rolled back in my head as he rubbed his hand firmly over my hard length and down to cup my balls through the denim of my shorts. The whole time he studied me with his face only inches away from mine.

I forced my eyes open. I smoothed my other hand over his bare chest, down over his stomach and lower to find his cock in a similar state. I urged him forward again with my hand on the back of his neck; he bent his elbow allowing me to guide his mouth to mine.

The kiss was softer this time, but there was just as much urgency behind it.

He was everywhere all at once. I hadn't noticed that he was so much bigger than me until I was surrounded by him; he had at least a couple of inches on me now. His big, rough hands roamed over my body—pulling me closer, smoothing over exposed skin, pinching sensitive parts, digging into flesh—as his hot mouth trailed from my lips, over my face to my ear, down my neck to my throat. The unfamiliar scratch of his stubble on my skin sent a shudder through me. I tilted my head back, granting him further access as his teeth grazed the tendons in my neck. I couldn't take anymore; I was used to being the one in control and I wanted to touch him.

I spun us around so his back was to the tree and pressed my body into his. I looked him in the eye and ran my hands down his chest to the waistband of his shorts. His face didn't falter at all as I popped the button and lowered the zipper, or when I slid my hand further down his stomach and into his shorts, but he grabbed my wrist just as my fingers curled around him, his eyes rolling back as I grabbed him with a firm fist.

"I'm not able to keep the other guys out of my head; they're going to see this," he warned.

"I told you, I don't care." I ran my tongue up his neck to his ear making his cock twitch in my grip as he let out a soft moan. "Do you want me to stop?" I breathed in his ear, giving his cock a little squeeze.

"No," he gasped.

"Then don't watch if you don't want them to know it's me." I gave his earlobe a quick nip, and sunk to my knees. I pulled his shorts open and down far enough to let him spring free.

The opportunity to examine another guy's equipment was one that had never presented itself to me before, I really only had my own to compare him to—and porn I guess, but honestly I hadn't been watching porn for cock. His dick bobbed after being released from the confines of his shorts, it wasn't as thick as mine but at least as long; the purple head poking out from his uncut foreskin and seeping pre-cum. I'd never touched another guy's junk—never even thought about it—but I wanted his dick in my mouth.

I reached my hand between his legs and held his balls giving them a light squeeze, using my grip to pull the hood back over the head of his cock—that was totally new and fascinating for me—making him groan in response. I know what I like, so I started there; thinking I'd just go with what felt right.

I leaned forward and ran my tongue experimentally along the underside of his erection from his nuts in my grip to the leaking tip, tasting the saltiness as I ran the tip of my tongue over his slit.

"Ohfuck!" His hand gripped the back of my neck as he sputtered a moan.

I repeated the trail along the outer edge on one side and was about to lick up the other side, when he jerked away from me.

"Fuck, wait. Stop!" he choked out, turning away from me and pulling his shorts up. "We can't do this."

"What the Hell?" I growled, collapsing down in the dirt at his feet on my ass. I had been about to blow him, clearly I wasn't too concerned with presenting myself as submissive, which was not only totally out of character for me in the pack, but with him specifically; I had always been the more dominant when we'd spent time together. He was, technically, my subordinate in pack rank after all.

"Trust me, you don't want this," he scoffed and rubbed a hand vigorously over his face. My brain was already struggling under a cloud of raging hormones and confusion and a heaping dose of rejection landed on top of all that—I wasn't used to being told no.

I gaped up at him, "The fuck I don't." I reached out to touch his leg, and he pulled away further, stepping away from the tree and where I sat.

"No, you don't," he spat and stalked off into the trees, stripping his clothes off as he went. He phased and ran off before I even had a chance to think about getting to my feet.

I leaned my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands and tried to clear my mind. That had been completely fucked up and nothing at all like I had been imagining for the last few weeks. I had thought he'd beat me to within an inch of my life, but had gotten a glimmer of hope when he'd kissed me back, and even more when we'd kissed the second time. When he let me take control—I knew he had let me—I gave up worrying about him hitting me and switched into autopilot.

What the hell did he mean that I didn't want this? I had come to the conclusion that I wanted it more than I wanted to not have my teeth knocked out, more than I wanted to chase tail around the Res, more than, well, more than anything I could think of. I didn't understand it, but I wanted him; I knew at least that much was true.

I had never had a single sexual thought about guys before a few weeks ago; never once questioned that I was straight. It had just snuck up on me. It wasn't like I hadn't known him for months—longer if you counted knowing him to see him in school—but somehow in the last month or so things had changed. He'd gone from being simply another pack brother, to us spending more and more time together outside the pack—a friend— to drifting unsuspected under my radar and into the occasional thought he had no place being in. Once I acknowledged that I was attracted to him, he quickly became all I could think about. To have him storm off after telling me I didn't want this—want him—I just couldn't wrap my head around it, it made no fucking sense.

I stood up and headed back toward the Res. on foot, stopping to pick up his discarded shorts along the way. It was clear by the way he'd left that he wasn't interested in talking about it or anything else, so I'd walk and give him some space.

I dropped his cut-offs just inside the tree line at the back of his place—he'd find them there eventually—and headed over to Sam's as per protocol after a patrol run. It wasn't my shift, but I knew him well enough to know that when he took off like that he'd be running for a while. Someone needed to check in, so I guess it had to be me.

"You look like hell," Sam scoffed at me as I climbed the steps to his back patio where he sat in a lawn chair. "I was about to give up on you guys. What happened? You two trying to kill each other again?" It was no secret that we fought. Sam had tried to stop us in the beginning but had left off when he realized we weren't causing each other any serious harm. It was a good way to let off excess aggression that seemed to come with being a giant supernatural wolf.

"Thanks!" I replied, rolling my eyes; if I looked anything like I felt, 'Hell' didn't quite cover it. "I don't want to talk about it." I collapsed into the chair on Sam's left, thankful it was him there and not Jared. Jared may be my best friend and second in command, but he sure didn't treat any of us with the same respect that Sam did, and I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit.

"So, you're alone?" he questioned me with a furrowed brow.

"Sam, really, I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" I huffed. "He took off."

A knowing look swept over Sam's face and he nodded slowly pursing his lips.

"He told you?"

"Jesus, Sam!" I sighed, frustrated at his persistence. I realized too late what he had said. "Told me what?"


	2. Show & Tell

I left Sam's place and had decided before I even made it home that I needed to go and let off some steam. Dad wasn't home when I got there—he never was—so I ate some leftovers and got ready to go out. One benefit of turning into a monster wolf was not getting carded at bars. No one would believe I had only just turned 18 even if they did ask for I.D.

Pam, the day-time waitress at Mill Creek, had made it clear that she'd be more than happy to scratch an itch for me if I were ever so inclined. After what happened in the woods this afternoon I was feeling inclined, and made my way into town to seek her out.

He was sitting on the steps leading up to my front door when I got home. I pulled into the empty driveway—Dad still wasn't home—cut the engine and sat in the car for a second before getting out and walking toward him. He sat with his elbows propped on his knees and his head hanging down, not looking at me. I stood at the bottom of the stairs for a minute and when he didn't move I walked up the stairs, brushing past him to the front door. I held the screen door open before going in and looking at him over my shoulder.

"You waited here, so obviously you have something to say. You coming in or what?" I shrugged when he still didn't make a move. "Suit yourself," I huffed and went inside, letting the screen door bang shut behind me.

By the time I was pulling open the fridge I heard the screen door slap against its frame again. I grabbed two cans of soda from the top shelf and passed one to him as I walked back toward him. We stood awkwardly in the entry way between the kitchen and the living room, the small space adding to the tension that already existed between us. I couldn't stop the flashes of memory from earlier that ran through my mind while looking at him.

"You talked to Sam?" he finally asked and looked up at me after a long silence where I stared at him expectantly and he looked at his shoes.

I nodded. "He didn't tell me much though." It wasn't a lie, Sam hadn't really told me anything at all, but he'd hinted broadly enough that the pieces had more or less fallen into place. "He just told me I needed to talk to you. So are you going to talk? Or did you come here to pick up where we left off before you bolted?" I could immediately see the change in him. He stood taller, with his shoulders back and a set to his jaw; it goaded me on. "Not sure I'm up for it anymore. Pam's got me feeling pretty fucked-out," I spat, grabbing my nuts suggestively and brushing past him and into the living room.

I heard him growl low in the back of his throat as I passed, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a huge fucking turn on.

"You got a problem with that?" I asked mockingly as I turned back to face him. Before I knew what was happening, he tackled me to the floor. He locked my arms against my sides with his knees, sitting across my stomach, one hand on my throat the other fisted by my head carrying his weight.

"Yeah, I have a fucking problem with that!" He growled, his face red with anger, where it had been calm only a second before.

"Get off me," I hissed in return.

"You reek of that slut." He leaned further into my face, his hand tightening around my neck.

"Get the fuck off of me!"

"Don't you have a shred of self respect? Will you fuck anyone with a pulse?"

"What's the matter? You jealous?" It wasn't smart to mouth off to the huge guy sitting on my chest with my windpipe being crushed under his hand, but I couldn't reel my big fat mouth in. "You walked away from me, remember?" I pushed my head off the floor and further into his hand, challenging him.

His hand slackened almost instantly and his knees relaxed, allowing me to move again if I wanted to. He stared down at me, and the impulse to fight back left me in a flash. Despite having just gotten my rocks off—twice—I could feel myself getting hard just by him being so close.

"Let me up," I asked more quietly.

His hand left my throat and landed on the carpet only a couple of inches from my face.

"No," his response was much calmer, but laced with a new, raw tone. He loomed; looking down at me with intense eyes that burned right through my residual anger.

"Come on. Let me up." I wasn't even convinced by my weak request. I pulled my arm from under his knee and hesitated only a moment before resting my hand on his thigh. "This is fucked. Why do I want you to kiss me?" I breathed.

He lowered himself down to his elbows, bringing his face mere inches from mine—his chest pressed so tight to mine I could feel his heart pounding.

"Because that's what I want to do; that's what I always want to do when I'm with you." He clenched and relaxed his jaw a couple times and stared down at me before continuing. "I thought I had a grip on it, but you tore that apart completely this afternoon," he explained.

I retrieved my other arm from its trap and placed it on his back. Giving into the pure want I felt from him, I arched myself off the floor into him and ran my hand up his back to his neck, guiding his head lower.

One second he was close enough I could feel his breath on my waiting lips, the next he had launched himself off of me and was standing with his face to the wall. He leaned with his elbows on the wall above him, his head hung low as his hands fisted in his hair.

I collapsed down to the floor as a heavy sigh left my lungs. "You've got to quit doing that," I groused, getting to my feet a moment later and adjusting my hard-on in my jeans. I was in no better shape than I had been when he had taken off that afternoon.

He spun around to face me, leaning against the wall again with his hands pinned behind him, like he was afraid they would reach out to me without his permission.

"We've got to talk about this," he said, his voice clipped and strained.

"Then talk. I'm listening." I picked my soda can up off the side table where I had put it down before he had tackled me and flopped myself down onto the couch.

"I imprinted on you," he stated bluntly. It wasn't a shock, I had figured that much out. "I know you hate imprinting—you've made that pretty fucking clear—so I've been fighting it, but it's gotten a lot harder lately. Especially when you can't seem to keep thoughts of your most recent conquest to yourself," he ground out, looking at me expectantly, his eyes almost black with intensity.

"You beat my ass because I was thinking about fucking some chick?" I asked when it clicked into place. It made sense now! That's what made him start beating on me.

"Not all of them, just the ones that want to stake a claim on you," he explained, like that would make it better somehow.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I knew there had to be a reason behind his aggression, but it hadn't occurred to me that it would come down to that.

"It's stupid, I know that, but there's this look that girls give you sometimes. I don't know if you even pick up on it, but it's like they'd like to call you theirs if you'd let them." He clenched his teeth and drew in a deep breath before continuing. "Seeing that look on their faces in your mind just pushes me over the edge. It makes me see red; I can't help it." He scrubbed his hand roughly over his face and returned it to its trap between his hip and the wall.

I just sat and stared at him. What was I supposed to say to that? I had been half joking when I'd asked him if he was jealous of Pam, and here he was, telling me that he was jealous enough of things he saw in my memories that he couldn't control himself. This was totally fucked up.

"When did this happen?" I asked finally, still not really able to wrap my head around it. "When did you...How? I thought this happened the first time you saw someone; we see each other all the time." I looked up from my seat on the couch to where he was still standing against the wall. He had his eyes closed and looked like he was concentrating pretty intently on something.

"Yeah," he agreed, which just confused me more. "It was that first night. I didn't really know it then, though." He sighed heavily. He slowly opened his eyes to focus on me, and ran his hand through his shaggy hair. We all kept our hair pretty closely cropped except for him; his was always a little longer and always falling in his fucking eyes.

"What do you mean, you didn't know?" I snarled. He needed to start making sense soon or I was going to lose it.

"It took me a while to figure out that the draw I felt to you wasn't..." he paused and looked at me before continuing, "Wasn't just a magnified version of how I already felt about you, but something more than that." He defiantly didn't break the eye contact between us, despite just telling me that he'd liked me before he'd phased.

Cocky motherfucker.

"Okay, but to hear Sam and Jared talk about it, it's basically impossible to not know. They couldn't stay away from their imprints at all; it was all they ever thought about…" I trailed off as I realized from the look he was giving me, that everything I was saying did apply to him too; he'd just been hiding it from me. I finally got why he was standing all the way across the room with his hands behind him.

He flashed me a pained crooked smile paired with a biting laugh. "Yeah, it's something like that."

I sat up on the edge of the couch and leaned forward on my knees. I'd had no idea that he had been suffering because we'd been spending time together; I couldn't understand how he'd managed to keep that from me.

"Alright, so, how long until you figured it out?" I asked and then added the next thought that popped into my head "And how did you manage to keep it out of the pack mind? From me?"

"It took a few weeks, honestly. Everything was so new—you know what it was like. By the time I'd settled into a pattern and got used to being a fucking wolf I started to realize there was more to it than just some stupid crush. It was more than just wanting to be with you or be you," he sighed and rambled on, "I felt like I wanted to be **part **of you; have you be part of me. I started to think about Sam and Jared's memories about imprinting and it all sort of clicked into place. I didn't phase once I realized until after I talked to Sam."

"Sam?" I couldn't imagine my cousin being especially comfortable with the idea of an imprint on another guy; he was a good guy and did a great job being a fair Alpha, but he wasn't exactly the emotional type or the most progressive thinker.

"I asked him to give me an order not to think about the imprint while I was phased. He said once you found out the order would be useless, which I'm guessing is true. The others will know about this as soon as one of us phases and lets it slip," he looked so serious and worried about that being an issue.

I stood up and took a few steps toward him, but stopped when he visibly tensed up.

"I already told you, I don't really care what they think," I said, shaking my head. "I don't give a rat's ass what they think when I'm with a girl, why should it make a difference if it's a guy?" That was exactly the conclusion I'd come to, although I hadn't actually thought it so clearly before then.

I had to move, I couldn't stand in front of him like that and not touch him; I turned and walked back across the floor. Just talking about being with him made it feel like there wasn't enough air in the room. My palms started to sweat and I felt short of breath. I couldn't deny that I felt a serious pull to him, but knowing that it was because he'd imprinted made my heart race and my head spin.

I hated the fucking idea of imprinting; having your whole life decided for you like that pissed me off. There was no choice in it. I'd been terrified about imprinting on someone since Jared had gone fucking crazy over a girl he hadn't even known existed. I either had to keep talking or get the fuck out of there.

"Right. So, now what happens?" I asked, pacing back and forth across the small living room.

"Now?" His certainty and determination came to a grinding halt as he dropped his eyes to the floor. "You decide what happens now."

I stopped my pacing and stood in front of him, hating how vulnerable he looked. I waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

"What does that mean?" I could feel the anger rising up in me again. It felt like he was still keeping something from me and I was sick of not understanding when he did talk.

He didn't respond.

He didn't even look at me.

"Jesus, talk to me! If this were to go the way you want, what would happen?" I spat at him in frustration. It felt like he was being so evasive and it was making me fucking nuts.

He moved so quickly I didn't have time to react, or maybe I didn't really want to. He clamped his hand around the back of my neck in a firm grip and turned me to face the wall in one swift movement, pushing me against it and pressing his body into mine with one muscled thigh between my legs.

My heart raced in response; my instinct to fight back flaring up but immediately being over taken by desire. His other hand pinned my wrist to the cool smooth surface above my head and he leaned his mouth right into my ear.

"You want to know what _**I **_want, Paul?" he crooned, his voice quiet and low, his breath hot on my face; mine hitched in my throat.

"I want to touch you all over." His hand on the back of my neck smoothed over my shoulder and down my arm, pulling my free wrist over my head to meet the first, which he trapped together in one of his big hands-I didn't dream of struggling free. His other hand ran down over my ribs to curl around my hip roughly, just avoiding brushing over my dick, which already ached to be touched. His weight against me kept me from moving, not that I wanted to by that point.

"I want to taste every inch of your skin," he purred, running the tip of his tongue over the outside edge of my ear.

I closed my eyes as a shudder crawled down my spine.

"I want to watch as you fall apart because of me." He pulled my hip backward and pressed his hard cock against my ass; his breathing faltering just a tiny amount at the sensation. I couldn't help myself; I pushed back into him.

"Then I want to bend you over and claim you." His hand was on the front my throat tilting my head back and his hot mouth on mine, briefly, leaving me wanting more.

"You need to know that if I fuck you, you're mine, Paul." His fingers curled around the back of my neck again.

"I won't share you, so you'd better think carefully about this," his voice was so thick at my ear I almost couldn't recognize it.

Just as suddenly as he had pushed me against the wall, he stepped back and released me, leaving me wanting.


	3. Question the Answers

He left me standing there, so fucking turned on it felt like I might spontaneously combust, and walked out the front door. Twice in one day he'd left me hanging like that; my brain under a cloud of pure, undiluted longing.

The fog left anger behind as it dissipated. Imprint or not, that was just fucking cruel. Sure, I'd outright asked him how he wanted to see things go from here, but, seriously, he couldn't just fucking tell me? No, he had to get me all worked up and then fucking flee the scene again. I could see that it was tough on him to be around me; Hell, it was becoming increasingly difficult from my perspective too.

I leaned my head back against the wall and tried to focus. He'd made a good point, one that was right at the root of why I fucking hated imprinting so damn much. If he fucked me, I was his. There was no grey area there. He fucked me; I was his, end of story. No going back on something like that. It wasn't like there was a way out once the imprint was accepted. Not that anyone knew of anyway.

I honestly had never thought of the logistics of what would happen between us before. I'd just come to terms with the simple, yet rather vague, truth that I wanted him. What that entailed hadn't really been at the top of my mind this afternoon when I'd kissed him, but it was now; with a vengeance. Reality came crashing in again. I turned my back to the wall and slid down it to sit on the floor.

He wanted to fuck me, he wanted to claim me, he wanted to fucking possess me. That was something I was just not okay with. It wasn't the physical act that I had a problem with, although I hadn't really imagined it going that way, as much as the meaning behind that act. I was my own man; I didn't answer to anyone for my actions, I didn't ask permission, I didn't...Okay, well, to some degree, I did answer to Sam. That was different though. Sam was like my boss or a Sergeant if we were military instead of supernatural wolves; really we were basically an army. I didn't have to answer to him for all aspects of my life like I knew I would if I were to accept the imprint.

I knew from the legends and from the other imprinted couples—couple? Fuck, I couldn't even think about that right now—that the choice was mine. I wasn't locked into the imprint until I decided I wanted it and accepted it. I also knew that I got to dictate what form the imprint took, although I was a little fuzzy on how that exactly would work. Say I decided I wanted the imprint, but not the sexual side of it; would the pull I felt toward him go away or would there always be a struggle between us? In which case I wasn't really making a decision after all, was I? How did one go about accepting the imprint if they only wanted friendship rather than a...lover?

Oh fuck.

I needed to move again or I was going to go fucking mental. I paced the floor of the living room as I thought through it again. Just thinking the word lover in connection with him did funny things to me. Things that it really shouldn't; especially after the night I'd already had with Pam.

Shower—I needed a cold fucking shower. Then I needed to get some fucking sleep, and then I needed some answers.

I headed straight to Sam's when I got up the next morning. I had a head full of unanswered questions and he was the first stop in trying to get some of them sorted out.

"Hi, Paul," Emily greeted me as she pushed open the screen door for me. "You're up bright and early this morning," she joked.

"Hey, Em. I was hoping to talk to Sam, is he around?" I hadn't thought to just pick up the phone to see if he was even home before I headed out the door.

"No, he's on patrol," she reminded me. Patrol schedules really weren't being given priority with everything going on in my mind over the last 24 hours however. "Do you want to come in and wait? I've got a pot of coffee brewing." Emily always looked out for us even though it was usually a pretty thankless task.

Coffee was tempting—I hadn't managed to get much sleep—but I really wanted to start figuring this mess out. "Uh, thanks, but I think I'll go see if I can track him down."

She stepped out on the porch and put her hand on my shoulder, her eyebrows pinched together in concern. "Okay. Come back with him for breakfast after if you want to," she offered. I hated when she got all motherly like that; I didn't really know how to respond—it's not like I had a lot of practice.

I muttered my thanks, left the porch and headed into the backyard and through the trees beyond.

_'Jesus, Paul, did you even go to bed last night?'_ Sam joked in greeting as I phased in. It was pretty usual for me to not make it back to the Res. until late on weekends, and even less normal for me to be up so early the next morning. His humor faded away after he realized just how tired and agitated I was. _'What's up?'_ he asked instead.

_'We talked last night after I got in,'_ I began, focusing on where Sam was running through the mind link and heading in that direction. _'I need some answers, I guess, Sam. I know this isn't, well, normal, but I need to know whatever you can tell me about how this works,'_ I pushed myself, my paws digging into the damp earth under foot, running to catch up with Sam. I could sense him slow down.

_'About imprinting, you mean?'_ he clarified. I still couldn't even bring myself to fucking say it, which of course he picked up on in my mind—I fucking hate the mind-link almost as much as fucking imprinting itself. _'It's going to be a tough road if you can't even say it without freaking out, Paul. What all did he tell you?'_ he asked, leaving his mind open. I waited before answering; catching the snippets of details he was wondering about in his mind.

_'Yeah, all of that. He said you ordered him not to think about it? What the fuck is that about, Sam?'_ I shot out at him.

_'He practically begged me to, Paul. The kid was a fucking mess the night he came to me. He was freaking out that you would just shut him out completely. He asked me about how it was when Emily had first rejected my imprint on her, and he panicked. You've made it well known that imprinting isn't really something you're that keen on, so he asked for some time to figure out how to tell you about it,'_ Sam explained. I was almost caught up to where he was and he stopped to wait for me.

_'Four fucking months, Sam?' _I snarled.

_'Three. He didn't come to me until almost a month after he phased.'_ Sam corrected me.

_'Whatever. It's still a long fucking time to sit on something like that, don't you think?'_ I asked, slowing to a trot and stopping in front of Sam in a small clearing on the Northern edge of the territory.

_'It wasn't my place to tell you. And just what would you have done if he'd come to you three months ago and told you that he'd imprinted on you, Paul? You would have freaked out, that's what. Do you remember what he was like when he first phased?'_ Sam was calm, but the memories he let slide into my mind were anything but. _'None of us had expected him to phase, remember how freaked out he was? He hadn't even heard many of the legends before. I didn't think we were ever going to be able to get him to calm down enough to phase back that first night. You should remember well enough, you sat with him until it was almost light out,' _Sam's mind flooded with flashes of that chaotic night.

He had been so much smaller when he'd first phased than he was now; I'd forgotten he was just a skinny kid then. And I had sat with him all fucking night; Jared was running patrol, and Sam had been meeting with the Elders about what to tell his mom. She hadn't witnessed the phase—Sam and I had managed to get him out of there before she knew what was going on—but she knew there was some fucked up shit going down and that her son was somehow involved in it. Nobody knew who his father was, and since his mom was Makah, nobody had warned us that he'd be joining the pack soon—hell, nobody had known.

I saw through Sam's mind, Embry's memories of that night; specifically his memories of me from that night. I wasn't prepared for the overwhelming gratitude and admiration that filled my own mind about me. It made me feel sick and dizzy.

I forgot for the time being that I was still linked to Sam and he could hear everything I thought. I marveled at the fact that anyone could see me that way. Regardless of a fucking imprint or not, that wasn't me. I wondered how the fuck he had kept that hidden.

'_That's looking back at it, Paul. He didn't know that night. That's why he came to me, though; because he knew you wouldn't want to see that.'_ Sam explained. He sat and looked at me across the clearing as I felt like I was coming unglued. I had seen the impact of an imprint in Sam and Jared's minds, but having that same intensity directed at you is a completely different ball game than watching it directed at someone else._ 'You should be talking to him about this, not me.'_

'_Fuck, Sam. There's too much I don't understand. I can't be around him,'_ I sputtered. I didn't have a hope of keeping anything locked down in my mind; I was too overwhelmed. Sam caught an eyeful of just why I couldn't be around Embry, as I remembered what had happened between us yesterday. I hadn't lied to Emb when I told him I didn't care if the others saw, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be uncomfortable.

'_Oh,' _Sam cringed only slightly. _'Yeah, okay, that's pretty fucking intense.'_ To his credit he didn't freak out, which I half expected him to. I tried to concentrate on keeping my mind focused in the present. Sam got to his feet and turned to continue his patrol, indicating that I should come with him; running always seemed to help to keep my mind where it was supposed to be.

I could feel Sam trying to figure the situation out. He seemed to think that my wanting Embry with such intensity wasn't a normal reaction to the imprint, but couldn't be sure because he'd never been inside the mind of an imprint before.

'_What do you mean it's not normal?'_ I ventured. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, honestly. I couldn't fathom the idea that there could be a normal in this situation. _'None of this is fucking normal, Sam!'_

I could sense Sam struggling with how to put it. He was uncomfortable with sharing too much about him and Emily for her sake, but wanted to help smooth out the situation that two of his pack members were in. _'Emily said there was a pull, but it wasn't like that. At least not that I knew about. I don't know, Paul, that's…'_

'_Fucked up?__ I know,'_ I scoffed. _'Okay,__ can we__ just forget __what happened yesterday?__ What if I don't want that?'_ I needed to start getting some fucking answers

'_You don't have to accept the imprint, Paul. You get to __make that decision__'_ he tried explaining.

'_Right, I know that. But what will that do to him? Emily rejected you at first, right?'_ I didn't need to ask anything more or for him to answer. He let his mind open to how it had felt when she had sent him packing; the empty void he felt inside: the loss and longing for something unattainable; the physical pain. I knew instantly that I couldn't do that to Embry.

'_Okay. I can't do that. I can decide how this works though, right? Like, it can just be a friends thing?' _I questioned Sam. He had worked with the Elders to get as much information on imprinting as he could for himself as well as Jared. It was the opinion of Old Quil and some of the others on the council that imprinting was to create the ideal pairing to carry the gene forward; so much for that fucking theory.

Sam stopped short and rounded on me, his head full of disbelief. _'Seriously? No offense, Paul, but who the fuck do you think you're kidding?'_ he derided.

'_What?'_

'_Dude, it's pretty fucking clear that it's beyond that already.'_

'_Yeah, well, it doesn't have to be. I don't want this. I can't be someone's fucking imprint! And what if it happens to me too, huh? What the fuck happens then? How am I supposed to deal with being tied to someone forever?__ Possibly two fucking people?__' _I was starting to panic.

'_Jesus, calm the fuck down. It's not the end of the world. Billy says that the imprint is the ideal person to complete the wolf, I can't believe the spirits would find your ideal mate if you're supposed to be his,'_ Sam attempted to placate me.

'_But what if that's not what this is, Sam? What if Billy doesn't have a fucking clue what he's talking about? What if...'_

'_What if? What if? What if you had a square asshole? You'd shit bricks,'_ he scoffed. '_Paul, you can't live your life wondering what if? You've got __to __have a little fucking faith, man. Maybe you should go talk to Billy or Old Quil yourself,'_ he suggested, turning to head back to the Res. after reaching the edge of the patrol route.

I followed him, thinking over what I'd learned—which wasn't a fucking lot. He left me to my thoughts all the way back, only saying anything to me again once we had phased back and were headed toward his house.

"You coming in?" he asked, already half way up the back patio steps.

"No, I'm going to go see if Billy is around." I couldn't even think about eating. "Thanks, Sam," I said as I headed off toward Black's house. Hopefully I would have more luck getting some answers out of the Tribal Chief than I had with Sam.


	4. Time-out

Billy wasn't much more helpful than Sam had been. He was willing to talk to me about everything which was a step in the right direction I suppose; I doubt that Old Quil would have been as receptive to the idea—the geezer was stuck in another century. The elders that knew of the wolves already knew that Embry had imprinted on me—I wondered if everybody already knew why it had taken me so damn long to figure it out—but Billy told me that some of them refused to acknowledge that it was a true imprint.

Not being a wolf himself, Billy didn't have any personal experience to offer, and really only had the old histories to draw on otherwise. He did try to insist that I do what I felt was the right choice for me and not worry about how it would affect Embry—which only served to prove that he had no idea how the pack worked. In reality, there was no way that I could make a choice that I knew would cause one of my brothers harm intentionally; I was a selfish prick, but they were the only family I had.

Billy didn't have any advice on how to accept the imprint without it being a physical relationship either. Again his knowledge here only came from records of the previous packs, and imprints had always eventually led to a mated pairing.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Paul; if you don't want that sort of relationship with Embry, then tell him that. The histories say that the wolf becomes what the imprint needs," Billy calmly explained again. He'd said the same thing a thousand different ways already.

"I don't really see how it can be that simple," I scoffed. Of course, I hadn't told him that I was going out of my fucking mind because I did want that sort of relationship—I just didn't want the permanent aspect that came with the imprint.

"You're thinking too hard about it, Paul. Go with your instinct. Either accept the imprint or don't; you can't let it eat you up. Do what you think is best for you, son." Billy sighed and clapped his hand on my shoulder—a gesture of finality. "You should really go talk to Embry. He's probably just as worried about this as you are. Maybe you can work through it together," he suggested, as I stood up from the kitchen table.

"Yeah. Thanks Billy," I sighed dejectedly, shaking his offered hand.

I left Black's house, thankful again that Jacob was in Forks with the little leach-lover and not around to get his nose in my business while I was there, and headed down to First Beach. I didn't have anywhere to be and since the day was gloomy and overcast there weren't many people around. I could see someone sitting in the sand about half way up, but other than that the beach was deserted except for about a thousand gulls.

I walked slowly down the rocky sand, thinking over everything I had learned that morning—which really wasn't a fucking lot. Neither Sam nor Billy had been able to give me a definitive answer about accepting the imprint on different terms than what I had already worked out for myself .

I wasn't exactly against the idea of a sexual relationship with Embry—the complete opposite in fact—but the idea of being tied to him exclusively for life made my fucking head spin. I was the first to admit I had fucking commitment issues; being faced with a binding, life-long commitment was terrifying.

I looked up when I was about half way to the bend before the docks, and realized the person sitting there was none other than the person I'd been agonizing over all morning. Embry sat with his elbows resting on his raised knees staring out at the waves crashing to the shore. His hair blew around in the wind, and if he'd been a normal guy I'd say he would probably be cold sitting there in the wind in cut-offs, a t-shirt and nothing else. Every time I looked at him lately I was hit by how much I wanted him, this was no exception.

I continued walking slowly toward him. He seemed oblivious to me, but I knew for a fact that there was no way he didn't know I was there. I stopped a few feet from him and stood awkwardly with my hands in my pockets and my shoulders hitched up nervously.

"Hey," I breathed after a long moment.

He turned slowly to look up at me, squinting against the wind and pushing his hair out of his face. "Hey."

"Can I sit?" I asked. He nodded and looked away from me. Things were stilted and edgy between us; like he wasn't able to even look at me because it hurt. I fucking hated it. We sat silently for a long time. It was clear he didn't know what to say any more than I did.

"I went to talk to Sam and Billy this morning," I started finally.

"Did it help?" he asked, skepticism lacing his voice heavily.

"No. Not really," I admitted. We sat quietly for another awkward silence .

"They both said to talk to you, but I don't know what to say." My confession hung between us unanswered.

Embry folded in on himself—pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them—and I could feel the tension and anxiety rolling off him. He drew in a deep shuddering breath before quietly saying, "You don't need to say anything." He sounded utterly dejected.

"Emb, I..." I tried, but he interrupted.

"You don't need to explain," he sighed. "You're sending me packing. I get it," he added quietly, curling further into himself.

"No," I replied quickly. I shifted so I was facing him before continuing. "I don't want to hurt you, but I hate this fucking situation, too. I don't want it—the imprint," I forced myself to say the word and watched Emb crumple even further at my admission. I put my hand on his shoulder trying to comfort him and get him to look at me.

"Hang on Emb. I fucking hate it, but I can't do this to you either," I gestured toward his fetal position and turned back to face the water. "I can't. I would be lying if I said I couldn't feel this...thing. It's too late; I can't hurt you like that."

At least what I'd said was enough to relax him a little even if I hadn't actually said much of anything yet. I waited until he was calm before continuing.

"So, what happens if I decide I don't what this to be, you know, physical? What then? Are we just, I don't know, friends?" I asked. I really couldn't get my head around how that would work.

The elders said the wolf needs to claim his mate in order for the imprint bond to be solidified. That he couldn't do so until the imprint had accepted him. There was no history of two wolves being imprinted, or of an imprint not accepting a physical relationship either. There was history of wolves imprinting on children, which was fucking creepy if you ask me. That was why the elders said the wolf becomes what the imprint wants; the records spoke of these wolves acting as guardians to their imprint until they were old enough. All of these cases ended up with the imprint as a mate eventually though.

"Yeah, if that's what you want," he agreed immediately. He sighed heavily, obviously relieved I was still considering accepting the imprint at all.

"Right, but how does that work? How are we connected if we don't...have sex? What? I just tell you that's what I want? Because I can't really get my head around that," I admitted truthfully.

"I guess so. I don't really know, Paul. There's not a rule book or anything." His shoulders slumped forward and he hung his head again.

"And this...," I struggled to describe the pull between us, "this sexual energy? Will it go away then? Will things go back to normal between us?" I questioned him knowing that he likely didn't have answers for that either.

"If you actually want it to, I think it would, but I don't know. You'd have to mean it," he quipped.

"You think this is my fault?" I asked, not entirely shocked at his implication.

He looked at me, his face suddenly determined. "Why did you kiss me yesterday, Paul?" he asked, his voice laced with anger and something else.

"Because I fucking wanted to," I growled back.

"Right. And let me guess, you've been thinking about it for a while, right? Say, three weeks or a little longer?"

"Yeah? So what?"

"That's about when things changed for me, too. I went from just feeling, I don't know, protective over you, to wanting to fucking possess you, almost overnight. I didn't really understand it then but I started to pick up on things from you."

"Like what?" I snapped.

"Your scent changed, for starters. Arousal has a pretty distinct scent, Paul. You know that. Even mixed with confusion and denial, it's hard to miss."

"You've been sniffing me?" I asked incredulously.

"Every fucking chance I get," his face looked pained as he admitted it.

It had more or less become second nature for the wolves to try and afford each other as much privacy as possible despite our heightened senses and being linked mentally while phased. The idea that he'd been scenting me made me feel violated at first, but I quickly realised that I really liked the idea of it, which, knowing that he was probably picking up on that, too, just had a snowball effect. All I could do was sit and stare at him as desire flooded through me. I watched his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate, as his shoulders tensed. I inhaled deeply, consciously letting his scent fill my own lungs. It was like a punch in the gut.

"Fuck," I gasped succinctly. That was a powerful head game to be playing with; too fucking powerful considering the whole imprint issue. Especially since I still couldn't see myself accepting it like that.

"Yeah," he breathed his agreement and looked away from me again.

We sat silently in the sand a few feet apart as I fought to gain control of my own body. What I really wanted to do was attack him. I understood now why we had been fighting so much; I was torn between wanting to fuck him or punch him.

"I'm going to need some time," I asserted after sitting quietly a while and calming myself down enough to think.

"I get that," he nodded. I could tell that wasn't what he'd wanted to hear though. Everything about him—his posture, his face, even his scent—was fighting against his words. Just sitting next to each other like this was fucking torture.

"And some space, I guess," I added. The last thing I really wanted at that moment was space though. I wanted to close the gap between us and fucking devour him.

He drew in a deep breath and swallowed thickly before answering, "I can do that." Could I?

I should have just got up and left—that would have been the best thing for both of us really—but I felt like I owed him some sort of further explanation.

"Just so I can think about it without whatever the fuck _this _is fucking with my head," I explained, motioning between the two of us to indicate the crazy tension we both felt. Hell, if anyone else had been around, I'm sure they would have been able to feel it too.

"Yeah," he nodded, still not looking at me, "I totally understand. Take however much time you need." Those were the words he said, but when he did finally turn to look at me his eyes were pleading with me to not do this. "Just..." he shook his head and turned away from me again with a frustrated huff.

"What?"

"I was going to ask that you let me know either way, but I..."

"I will," I interrupted him to assure him that I would. He nodded again, sadly.

I wanted to take it back. I wanted to tell him it would be okay even though I wasn't sure that it actually would be. I wanted to kiss him so fucking bad it hurt. I stood up and walked away before I had a chance of doing either.


	5. Take Five

I went back to Sam after leaving Embry sitting in the sand and asked him to keep someone between Emb and I on patrol rotation at least for a while, so we wouldn't have to be phased at the same time. He was pretty put out about the situation, but considering the head full he'd caught off of me that morning he was willing to make the adjustment to the schedule at least in the short term.

Sam wanted to know if Billy had been any help at all, but I was fucking sick of talking about it at that point and just wanted to run off some steam. I told him that I'd take the afternoon patrol and that I'd come back and talk to him after that.

I focused on the familiar burning sensation travelling up my vertebrae as my bones and muscles realigned themselves; the calming effect the wolf had on me was almost instantaneous. I let the confusion and drama of the last 24 hours slip away and ran as fast as my paws would carry me. I zeroed my attention on my surroundings and completely ignored the twisted web inside my mind. I needed to forget the whole mess, even if just for a short time.

Patrols were typically three hours, and staggered throughout the day, adjusted as needed based on the weather and what was found in the territory over the last few runs. Three hours alone, in the woods, with nothing to do, but keep my nose on alert for bloodsuckers that shouldn't be there—really, none of them would be allowed to be there if it were up to me—that sounded just about exactly what I needed.

Of course, I wasn't able to keep my mind completely off it for the whole patrol though, but somehow thinking about it as the wolf gave a new perspective. Blame animal instincts I guess, it seemed a little more cut and dry: I wanted Embry, Embry wanted me; the wolf didn't really seem to see the issue the same way I did. It relaxed me a bit even though I knew that I still had a long road ahead of me before I would be able to face this thing and actually make a decision.

We avoided each other for almost a week. I fell into a pattern that used to be familiar. Jared's uncle ran a landscaping company that I had worked for last summer and Jared got me hired back on part time when his Uncle Rick landed the summer maintenance contract with the Town of Forks. It was a good fit; I'd bet a month's pay that Rick knew about the wolves, and if he didn't he was a seriously laid back guy. As long as we got the work done, he didn't seem to care that one of us would take off randomly for a few hours at a time.

I did my patrol shifts when I had to, I went to work, I slept. If I knew Embry wasn't going to be out there too, I'd run to kill time when I wasn't busy. I also spent just about every waking second thinking about the fucking mess I was in; without actually getting anywhere close to making a decision.

The first couple of days were fine. I didn't really notice that things were that much different except I wasn't hanging out with Embry at all, which had become an almost daily thing. I started working on Tuesday, two days after I'd asked Emb for some space.

On the third day I started to notice the change. I was so bitchy all day at work that Jared ribbed me about being on my rag. By that evening I felt like I was coming down with the flu; my joints ached and I was totally fucking exhausted. Wolves don't get the flu though.

Mid-day on day four I felt like I was losing my mind. I was fucking miserable; my head felt like it was going to split in two, my chest felt empty. To top it all off I was so fucking horny it hurt. I thought about Emb—a lot. I wondered, if things were this bad for me, how was he managing? He was the one who'd imprinted after all. I was just a fucking horn-dog.

It had been five days since I'd told Emb that I needed some time and space to figure this out. Five days since I'd seen him at all. Five long, fucking excruciating, days. I'd had more than I could take; something had to give.

I still didn't have a fucking clue about what I was going to do about the imprint, so I wasn't ready to talk to Embry. I had to relieve some of the tension in my body though, so I headed into Port Angeles. Pam would be at Mill Creek, and I knew that wasn't the road I needed to be heading down. Someone with no strings and no trail would be ideal.

I found myself at Bar R. It was Friday night and the college crowd was out in force. I spent some time sitting at a table in the corner just watching the crowd. Thinking about Embry so much had opened my mind and I actually found myself watching the guys as much as the girls. The girls put on a better show and were way less afraid to let you know they were interested. I found who I was looking for easily enough without having to try too hard—Hell, she may have even found me, I don't actually know-either way, it didn't take a lot of effort on my part, which was good because I wasn't on my game.

That's how I wound up in a stall in the men's room with a girl whose name I didn't even know, on her knees in front of me. She was working way harder than she needed to, looking up at me through her eyelashes and licking her lips trying for that seductive thing that was just over the top as she unbuckled my belt; with how keyed up I was she could have been just about anyone.

I nearly threw her off me the second her lips wrapped around my cock though. It made my stomach turn and my vision swim; it was all wrong—she was wrong. I pulled her to her feet and buttoned my pants, muttering a half-assed apology to her as I opened the stall door and left. I wasn't going to find any relief in that bar or any other.

I considered leaving my car there and running back to La Push for a moment. I didn't want to run the risk of having to explain the shit in my head to anyone else that might be phased, especially if it were Emb, so I drove the 70 miles back in record time.

I parked in the drive way at my house, but didn't even bother to pretend to be going home—the old man was probably already too drunk to notice anyway. I couldn't fight the pull anymore; I walked the two blocks without even realizing I'd done so.

The house was dark, but listening closely I could hear two heartbeats inside; one sleeping and the other beating a chaotic rhythm like my own. I walked along the side of the house to the bedroom window, which was open. I pushed it open further and climbed through.

Emb was lying in the middle of his small bed, curled into himself and shaking. He looked like he was worse off than I was. I hadn't had a plan when I climbed through his window; I just knew that was where I needed to be. He was suffering because I said we needed to stay away from each other. Seeing him like that fucking hurt; I knew he just needed me close.

I sat on the floor and leaned my back against the side of the bed without saying a word. Reaching behind me, I pulled his arm free and over my shoulder to rest his hand on my chest. His shaking stopped and the tension in him slowly faded, as did mine. I shuffled forward enough to rest my head on the mattress as exhaustion swept over me. He shifted his hand, so his fingers brushed over the skin of my neck above my collar and that felt better still. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat and breathing return to normal, lulling me into a calm sleep.

We woke in the morning in the exact same position. My ass was completely numb but I didn't want to move, still needing the calm his touch brought me. I knew he was awake too.

He started to pull his hand away but I put my hand on top of his to stop him. He let out a heavy breath across the back of my neck, making me shiver. He moved his fingers lightly across my skin.

"Avoiding each other doesn't fucking work," I mumbled, still half asleep and completely drugged by his soft touch.

"No," he agreed.

"You went out last night?" he asked after a long pause.

I knew he would be able to smell everything on me, but would also be able to tell that nothing had happened between the girl and me.

"Yeah, that was a bad idea," I laughed.

I sat up, stretched my back and turned to face him on the bed, sitting on my knees and leaning my arms against the edge of the mattress. He pushed himself up on his elbows, laying part way down the bed on his stomach.

"We'll have to figure something else out. I'm not going through that again," I told him bluntly. "I can't," I sighed and laid my forehead in my folded arms on the bed in front of me. "And I don't think you can either."

"No," was all he said in response.

We sat there quietly for a while. I couldn't help indulging in having him so close; I listened to his steady breathing and heartbeat, and greedily drew in his scent which was thick and heavy in the small bedroom. I felt his weight shift on the mattress above my head, but held still. I hoped that he wasn't getting up yet but wasn't able to bring myself to ask him to stay. I jumped slightly when I felt his fingers lightly touch the back of my neck, barely drifting over my skin. I wanted him to touch me—every nerve in my body craved it—but my mind was screaming at me to stop it before it went too far—to get out of there. I held my breath and waited; his breaths shallow and stilted as well.

Slowly, he curled his fingers around my neck, brushing lightly through the edge of my hair. It felt fucking amazing; calming and completely, fucking electrifying at the same time.

His heart pounded in echo to my own. I held still; fighting the urge to sit up and look at him because I was afraid it would either make him pull away or it would escalate things.

He ran his fingers tentatively through the ends of my hair and down between the tendons along the back of my neck and slowly back up. His voice was hardly audible when he whispered, "Is that okay?" My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't answer, so I nodded my head a little.

He shifted again, but continued to lightly trail his fingers along my neck.

It wasn't okay at all, it was way too much; I wanted to push him away and leave. It also wasn't enough; I wanted so much more. I slowly turned my head to the side and looked at him. He was lying with his elbow bent under his head, watching intently where he ran his fingers over my neck. His eyes flicked to meet mine and I was a fucking goner; I wanted to kiss him. I fought the urge, but it was clear he felt it too as his long fingers curled around my neck more forcefully.

I could feel my wolf rising up within me. Just as it had when I'd been running all week, the wolf side of me made it clear that it knew what it wanted. My animal instincts usually just led me to take what I wanted.

I watched as he clenched his eyes tightly closed against the tension that was mounting between us. As soon as he opened them again, I rose up on my knees a little and moved forward, putting my own hand around his neck and kissing him.

That was a bad fucking idea.

Don't get me wrong, it felt fantastic, but I wasn't really ready for his response. This wasn't like kissing someone who didn't want you to and getting slapped for it; this was the opposite in almost every way imaginable. I could feel that he wanted this even more than I did—of course he did, his was driven by some fucked-up supernatural cupid's arrow—and it was going to take a lot more than a little slap to turn this off now that it had started.

He kept his hand on my neck and his mouth never left mine as he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed and hauled me roughly up to sit there with him. Jesus he was fucking pushy. He manoeuvred us so he knelt with one knee between my legs allowing him to loom over me. I leaned back as he pressed into me, not wanting to break the kiss. He grabbed my hand away from the back of his neck and brought it down next to my leg. He held my hand there a minute before dragging his fingers up my ribs in a bruising path, dragging my shirt with them. I reached to touch him, and he grabbed my hand away again.

"Stop it," he growled, pinning my hand to the bed under his knee.

"I can't fucking touch you?" I protested in disbelief. I reached out again and he clamped both hands around my wrists, holding them tight to my sides.

Whatever fucking spell we'd been under lifted and I remembered exactly why I'd been avoiding him in the first place; I wasn't fucking ready for this as much as I wanted it. I struggled against his hold on me, as he glared at me through impossibly dark eyes way too fucking close to my face. I could feel the wolf just below the surface, rearing up and protesting. Embry was my fucking subordinate! Who the fuck did he think he was?

He suddenly let me go, pulled away from me completely and sat on his heels at the end of the bed with his fists balled on his tense thighs. "Go," he ground out, closing his eyes tightly.

All I could do was gape at him as I struggled to catch my breath; his mood swings were making me fucking dizzy.

He opened his eyes finally and it felt as though he were looking through me instead of at me. His entire body trembled. "Paul, you need to leave. We can talk later, but you need to go now. Please," he begged through clenched teeth. I could tell that he was barely holding himself back. I got up from the bed, walked the short distance to the window and left the way I'd come in last night, not feeling a lot better than when I'd arrived but for completely different reasons.

What a fucking mess.


	6. Full Disclosure

He found me later Saturday afternoon while I was on patrol. I felt the pull to him as soon as he phased in. It wasn't the same sexually charged draw I had felt earlier—or any other time I was around him for that matter; it was easier to be around him wolfed out. It was comfortable—something we hadn't been around each other for a while; it felt right somehow.

'_Is it okay if I run with you?'_ he asked. His uneasiness was easy to read in his mind.

'_Yeah, that's cool.'_ My projected thoughts may have been aloof but I let him see how comfortable I felt with him there and he relaxed.

I slowed my trek South, waiting for him to catch up and take his usual position at my right flank. Throwing a glace over my shoulder and seeing him there, where he'd always been, solidified the feeling of rightness. We continued South until we came out at the top of the cliffs at Strawberry Bay.

I sat on the cliff edge and looked out over Second Beach below, Embry still at my side.

He broke the comfortable silence after a few minutes. _'I'm sorry about this morning.'_ His thoughts were full of regret over his lost control.

'_Do we have to talk about this?'_ I asked, casting a sideways look his way. I hated the idea of losing the calm companionship we'd found running together.

'_I think we should. It might be easier to do it this way,'_ he suggested. Being mind-linked was always a fucking trip. Sure, you only really picked up what the other person was actively thinking about, but knowing someone else's thoughts so intimately at all was something that really took some getting used to. Especially when those thoughts were about you—specifically what they wanted to do to you.

Embry let me see glimpses of the struggle he felt around me: how he'd been holding himself back from touching me for weeks; how he felt when he broke down and did touch me—even if it was to hit me; how empty he'd felt when he hadn't seen me for five days and the relief he felt when I came to him last night. I knew he was still holding a lot of his thoughts back, only letting me see a little of what he'd felt. That was enough; it fucking hurt.

I couldn't help the soft whine in the back of my throat when my eyes met his. He hung his head low, his ears flat to his head, his eyes looking up to me. I turned my head more and nudged his shoulder with my muzzle. His submissive posture was completely at odds with his attitude from this morning. It fucked with my head. I was the more dominant wolf, that wasn't the issue; he was only showing me the respect the pack hierarchy dictated. I didn't want it.

'_Knock it off,'_ I snapped, not even bothering to hide the confusion it was causing me from him. I nudged him again and he sat up straighter and shuffled forward a little. His wolf was bigger than mine now too; why hadn't I noticed this? Fuck.

'_I can't really explain it, Paul. I just...'_ He watched me carefully a second before letting his mind open to show me what he'd been struggling to put into words. He let me see how he fought with the instinct to overpower me every time I was near. Then he showed me how much worse it was when I put myself in a position to be overpowered, like I had this morning by letting him touch my neck—and how it had been nearly impossible to hold himself back when I kissed him. He showed me exactly how he wanted to dominate me and claim me. He wanted me to be his in every sense; he wanted complete submission from me.

'_Fuck. Emb, I...'_ I couldn't think straight. Jesus, that's fucking hot, and completely fucking terrifying at the same time; I couldn't block either thought from him.

'_If that's what you want, great, but I need you to be sure. If you don't want that, that's fine; I can do this, I can handle being just friends if that's what you want, Paul, but you needed to know what you're dealing with.' _He studied me for a moment before trying to lighten the tense mood. _'Just...stop throwing yourself at me, okay, man? I can't fucking take it.'_ His joke only thinly veiled the request which I knew was really the truth of the matter.

'_So, do you think you could handle us hanging out as friends again?'_ he asked after he'd let me digest everything for a while.

'_Yeah,'_ I agreed. What the fuck else was I supposed to do? I couldn't avoid him, it hurt us both—knowing how badly he had been hurt was just about killing me—and I couldn't even get my head in a space to think about what would really happen between us if I were to accept the imprint the way he wanted. That left being friends as the only option; friends that were fighting the instinct to jump each other.

Yeah, this was going to work out just fucking great.

We finished up with patrol, neither of us feeling all that chatty after the big revelation but still enjoying the company of each other. We decided to go together to talk to Sam; we needed to let him know we weren't avoiding each other anymore at least.

_'Alright, Speed, see if you can keep up with me, huh?'_ Embry taunted me as he took off at full speed. It was a game we'd played a hundred times before; the familiarity of the chase easing us into this new friendship status. I easily caught up to him and we ran the rest of the way back nipping at each other's heels and cutting one another off. By the time we walked out into Sam's backyard, we had fallen back into a comfortable banter with each other. It was almost like the tension of the past week hadn't happened—almost, but not quite.

I playfully shoved his shoulder as we broke the tree line and I could feel Sam watching us before I even looked up.

"You two sounded like a pack of Hyenas coming in," Sam chastised us; the smile on his face giving away that he wasn't actually pissed off at us. He watched us curiously as we climbed the steps and joined him on the patio. "Good run?" he asked, looking between us, clearly trying to figure out the change in our dynamic.

"I can't complain. Sun's shining, not a leech anywhere to be found...," I answered, catching Emb's eye on the other side of Sam as I added, "good company."

Sam, uncomfortable with the situation, looked between Embry and I sitting on either side of him. "You two have worked this out?" he asked, finally breaking the silence that had fallen.

I looked to Embry again before answering. It was obvious from the intensity of the look between us that nothing had actually been worked out; I felt like he was looking through me again. "Yeah, sure," I nodded in agreement to Sam's question.

"So, you're..." Sam hesitated again.

"We're friends, Sam." Embry supplied, giving him a look that an idiot could interpret as a plea for Sam to drop it. Thankfully he was pretty good at picking up on those things and let it be.

We finished up with Sam and I got up to head out. Sam asked Emb to hang back a second, and I knew that it was a conversation involving me, so I split. I didn't need anything else to think about honestly.

The whole pack spent the afternoon on the beach on Sunday, enjoying the treat of a warm day. Kim and Jared were off walking somewhere—fucking in the trees was more likely—and the rest of us were tossing a football around. Emily sat on a blanket up the beach watching us and laughing at the antics of the pack. I decided to take the opportunity to talk to her.

I grabbed a drink from the cooler and plopped myself down in the sand next to her.

"Hey," she said leaning into my shoulder with hers, a wide smile on her scar-lined face. "Not feeling the football?"

"Without Jared there aren't enough of us to play properly," I started. "And I was hoping I could talk to you, actually."

"Of course you can, Paul." She turned on the blanket to face me more, her expression taking on a seriousness and concern. Emily had fallen into the role of mother figure as the pack grew and she took care of us all. It was something she was well suited to, and seemed to do willingly even when Sam told her it wasn't expected. "What's up?"

Talking to her seemed to be a good idea when I was thinking about it, but now that I was sitting there I couldn't think of how to bring it up. It would have been easier if I knew if Sam had told her about Embry's imprint on me. I picked at the sand on the edge of the blanket willing myself into talking. Finally, she put her hand on top of mine, causing me to meet her eye.

"It's about Embry, isn't it?" she asked quietly. "Sam told me," she explained as her eyes darted to find him at the mention of his name. I followed her gaze and caught Sam giving me a nod. The next time the ball came to him, he threw it hard in the opposite direction, causing the game of catch to move further down the beach and further away from where Emily and I sat, effectively giving us some privacy from prying wolf ears. I caught Emb's eye and tried to give him at least a reassuring smile, but was pretty sure I didn't manage anything but a blank stare. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly Sam had told Emily about this fucked up mess.

"Yeah. I was hoping you could maybe...I don't know...tell me what it was like for you? You didn't accept Sam right away did you? "

She shook her head, "No, I didn't. I hated that I would be hurting Leah if I did...she's still hurt anyway though," she said quietly, lowering her eyes a moment before looking back up.

Imprinting seemed to have a pattern of causing trouble: Emily's cousin, Leah Clearwater, had been practically engaged to Sam before he'd imprinted on her; and Jared had basically done everything to avoid Kim before he'd imprinted on her because he didn't like her at all. Now, however, both pairs seemed to be completely inseparable. Embry and I were no exception to that trouble either; why the universe had decided a straight guy was the best choice for Embry's ideal mate was mind boggling.

"Why did you change your mind? What made you accept the imprint?" I was eager for information despite being totally uncomfortable talking about it.

"I felt a really strong pull to Sam. I was drawn to him even though I tried to stay away. I just wanted to be wherever he was," she admitted, with a small laugh and a hint of a blush to her cheeks. After forcing the smile from her face and another glance in Sam's direction, she continued, "What about you, Paul? Sam said you're feeling a pull, too?"

It was my turn to laugh and be embarrassed. "Yeah, I am. It's totally fucked up, Em... Sorry," I apologized, remembering myself before she scolded me for my language—a nearly daily occurrence.

"It's fine. Can I ask you something personal, Paul?" she posed and looked at me in concern; I nodded. "You're not attracted to boys are you?"

"No," I answered quickly, shaking my head.

"And the connection you feel to Embry, it's...um, sexual, right?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted the sand to open up and swallow me so I could be out of this mess. I sighed and ran my hands vigorously over my face.

"Yeah, it is," I confessed with more nervous laughter. I couldn't bring myself to look at her. Clearly, Sam had told her everything.

"That's got to be tough. The imprint doesn't have to be about sex though, Paul. It can be what you want it to be. If you want to just be his friend, you get to make that choice. He'll have to learn to live with it," she explained.

"I know. And that's what's happening right now. It's just...it's so messed up, Em. I've never felt anything like this...and on top of everything, he could be my cousin or anything." I grunted in frustration.

Emily laughed and shook her head at me. "He's not your cousin, Paul."

"How do you know? He doesn't even know who his father is." I protested.

"Paul. Look at him." She insisted.

I looked down the beach to where he was tossing the ball around with Sam, Quil and Jacob. Each of them had the potential to be his half brother, but nobody knew for sure who it was except the man in question and Tiffany Call; neither of which had been forthcoming about it.

"Now look at Sam," she instructed. Sam is my cousin, and precisely the reason I'd been thinking about it. "Don't you think there would be some resemblance between them if Joshua were Embry's father?"

"I suppose," I shrugged. There was absolutely no commonality between Sam and Embry. Sam was broad and thickly muscled and dark skinned, Embry was more lanky and wiry, his skin much lighter. It was like comparing a wrestler and a swimmer.

Emily sat quietly for a moment as I watched Embry. I watched the muscles in his arm and shoulder as he threw the ball to Quil, the smile light up his face as Quil fell into the surf fumbling the ball. His eyes met mine and he smiled after a moment. I gave a small wave back.

"Now look at Jacob," Emily whispered close to my ear, clearly having witnessed the exchanged between Embry and I.

"Oh shit!" It was so completely obvious I wondered how I'd never noticed it before; where there had been virtually nothing in common between Embry and Sam, Jacob was a near replica of Embry, only a little taller. How Embry's father had been a question seemed ridiculous looking at them now. "Billy?" I choked in shock.

"It's pretty obvious isn't it?" she laughed.

"Yeah. Does he know?" I asked gaping at her.

"I don't know. He must suspect. He looks nothing like Quil either, in case you didn't notice," she laughed again. "Sam hasn't said anything to him—or to Jake or Billy—but we've talked about it. I think Sam would rather it had been his own dad than Billy, though."

I nodded in agreement. Joshua Uley was a pretty contemptible guy and his having cheated on Aunt Alison wouldn't have been unexpected, but thinking about Billy cheating on his wife was shocking, especially given that Jake was only a couple of months older than Emb. The whole tribe looked up to Billy—it made a little more sense now, why he'd never come forward and admitted that he was Embry's father. That didn't stop the anger that filled me at the knowledge though.

"So, he's not your cousin. Besides, it's not really an issue unless you were going to have kids, and...that's not really a concern, is it?" she asked with a raised, teasing eyebrow.

"No. It's not." I laughed.

That was just one less thing to clog my brain up with bullshit thoughts. Hopefully the more of those little nagging thoughts I could get rid of, the easier this whole thing would be.


	7. Labels

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach. It was good to spend some time with everyone and have things feel normal for once. When Kim and Jared finally came back from wherever they had snuck off to, the girls headed back to Sam and Emily's place to get dinner going and we played an actual game of football.

Emb and I wound up on opposite teams, which, given that we always played full contact, made for some tense moments. At one point he had tackled me and had me pinned to the sand under him. He stared down at me with such intensity that all I could think about was how much I fucking wanted to kiss him. The only thing that stopped me was the memory he had shared with me of how hard it was for him when I did shit like that.

"Embry, throw the fucking ball, man," Quil bellowed down the beach, jerking Emb's eyes away from me and breaking the spell. I shoved him off of me into the surf, scooped up the ball, and hurled it in the other direction at Jared.

I gave Emb a sideways glance as he stood up. His shorts clung to him in a way that should be fucking illegal. He smirked as he caught me looking and headed off to join the fray.

Yeah, being friends wasn't going to be fucking easy.

When we'd finished the game, we gathered up the items the girls had left behind and headed back to the house to eat.

I could feel Emb watching me from across the yard and I was amazed that Quil, Jacob or Jared hadn't picked up on the tension between us. Given that Jared could only really pay attention to Kim, and Quil was pretty self-absorbed at the best of times, I guess I shouldn't be surprised; but, I thought for sure Jake would have caught on by this time. I guess the privacy we'd all learned to give one another was a blessing after all, even if it had meant that I'd been oblivious to the situation Emb and I were in for months.

To be honest, I did my fair share of watching him, too. After Emily had pointed out the similarities between Embry and Jacob I couldn't help but wonder how I'd not seen it before. There was no way they weren't brothers. Emb's crazy growth spurt and how he'd been becoming more aggressive over the last few months made more sense now—maybe it wasn't all to do with the imprint; it could just be genetic.

Apart from being able to feel him looking at me, things were pretty comfortable over all for the rest of the afternoon. At least they were until we left to go home at the same time. It was such a habit from spending time together for so long that neither of us thought anything about it until we were walking along in complete silence. Without saying a word about where we were going, we found ourselves back on the now deserted beach. It was too windy for fires, and once the sun went down people didn't want to be anywhere near the ocean without one to keep them warm. The cold didn't really bother us though, one of the bonuses of running an extremely hot body temperature—that and it helped burn off infections making it virtually impossible for us to get sick at all.

"So, you're gay?" I asked, finally breaking the awkward silence we had fallen into.

He paused for a minute, his lips pursed as if he were thinking about it. I didn't understand what there was to think about, but he seemed to need a few seconds to do so. "Sure, I guess. When I'm with a guy."

I didn't know for sure that he'd actually been with anyone, male or female. He said he couldn't keep the pack out of his head, but he sure hadn't let anything slip regarding his sexual preference over the last few months. He'd shown me over the last week that he could at least talk a mean game though. Almost all of us had accidentally, or less so, shared fantasies or conquests—even moments that Emily and Kim would be mortified if they knew were common knowledge among the pack—but not Embry. As far as the pack was concerned, he didn't even think about sex, let alone get any. "Are you ever with anyone who's not a guy?"

He nodded as we continued walking along the water's edge.

"With a girl?" I blurted out.

"Yeah," he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief over the obvious question. I couldn't help laughing and rolling my eyes at my own stupidity.

"So you're bi then?" I surmised.

He's some sort of equal opportunistic bisexual? That would mean that he had an even broader range of people that he could have imprinted on; so why the fuck was it me the Spirits had stuck him with?

"Do you need to label it?" he asked with a shrug.

"I'm just trying to understand," I explained with a frustrated sigh.

We had stopped walking. I stood in front of him, with my hands in my pockets. The more I learned about him the more I wanted to, but it was like pulling teeth sometimes. I thought I had known him, but the last couple days had proven that I'd only scratched the surface.

"Fair enough. If you have to put a name to it, I suppose omnisexual would work..." he trailed off, and laughed at what could only be the blank, dumbfounded look on my face. "How about just sexual then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me. I waited for him to explain.

"I used to think that I didn't want to be limited to just one group—guys, or girls, or just people within a certain age range...or just natives, or whatever," he finished with another shrug. He seemed sure of himself when he was speaking but his body language undermined his words.

"You said used to. Now what do you think?" I'm sure I still looked confused; I sure as hell felt it anyway.

His unsure body posture vanished. He seemed to stand taller, shoulders back, head up. He looked directly at me, and I felt completely exposed despite actually being fully dressed for a change.

"Just about you," he stated simply.

The intensity of his simple statement sent a tremor through me, as my heart rate kicked up. I'd almost forgotten that detail. "Oh yeah," I huffed, trying to catch my suddenly short breath.

Fuck! How did he do that?

I could feel that he was thinking about kissing me. It wasn't like standing there with a chick; he didn't lick his lips, his eyes didn't flick down to my mouth—he didn't even break eye contact—but I knew he was thinking about at least that, maybe more; I was too, despite having put the brakes on just yesterday.

He'd said he wasn't going to push me, and that he'd be okay just being my friend if that's what I wanted—in that moment, friends didn't seem like nearly enough.

I have no idea how long we stood there just staring at each other before he finally spoke again.

"Come on. It's late, and I have patrol in the morning." He motioned with his head back toward the main road, and started walking. His shoulder brushed mine as he passed me, the light touch feeling like fire.

I fucking hated and absolutely loved the entire imprinting pile of shit. I hated that choice seemed to be completely erased from the equation—sure I had a choice as to how I had Emb in my life, but I would always have him in my life regardless—I couldn't cut him out. On the other side of it though, I had never experienced the level of intensity, with anyone, ever, the way I did every time I was with him, regardless of what we were doing. I'd certainly never had the connection—the sense of belonging— I felt with him with anyone else; it really did seem at times that I could read his thoughts, at least when they were about me anyway.

We walked in silence, our shoulders brushing again occasionally—I was unsure who instigated it, or if it was actually accidental. It wasn't unusual really, the pack all shared a close bond; feeling the need to be around one another, right down to playful touches, like real wolves I guess—even as humans we were closer than most groups of guys. But the casual shoulder bumps and random touches had taken on a whole new meaning between Embry and me.

He stopped again when our paths would lead us in different directions to get to our own homes. He stood in front of me again, and just looked at me.

"Thanks," he finally said quietly with a nod.

"What for?" Hopefully my confusion over every detail would soon end and things would start to make some fucking sense.

"For actually giving this some thought and not just shutting me down completely," he explained.

I shrugged my shoulders once. "It's not like you really had a choice. Maybe if you'd told me right away it would have been different, but I can't pretend there isn't a pull."

"Yeah, well, thanks." he nodded and pursed his lips. He reached his hand up and clapped it around the curve of my neck and shoulder. It wasn't a hug, but it was just as comforting. He held it there for a moment before releasing his grip and turning to walk down the road that would lead to his house.

I watched him walk to the end of the block and turn the corner, not really wanting to be alone after having spent all day with him. I needed to get my head straight. This mess was going to kill me otherwise.


	8. Revelations

"Hey Sam," I said as I walked around the corner of the house to the backyard, where Sam was messing with the lawnmower. "You got a few minutes?"

"Sure, what's up?" he asked over his shoulder. "Embry?" he guessed, raising an eyebrow at me.

I laughed, there was really nothing else that I could think about, and Sam knew it just as well as I did. "How'd you guess?"

"Did talking to Emily yesterday help at all?" he chuckled, turning back to the lawnmower.

"Yeah. Some," I admitted.

"But?" Sam always knew somehow when there was more to what I was saying.

I sighed and sat on the grass near where he was working. "Why the fuck hasn't Billy said anything to him?" I ground out, the frustration I'd been feeling since I'd found out Billy was Embry's father finally bubbling over the surface.

Sam huffed a sad laugh shaking his head, and turned to sit with his back against the mower handle. "I have no clue."

"Have you talked to Billy about it? Or Embry?" I demanded.

"No. I don't know what to say. It's not really my place, is it?" Sam wiped his greasy hands on a rag, avoiding looking at me. It was clear he'd struggled over this already and had come up with exactly what I had—nothing. "I mean, if Billy wanted Embry to know, he would say something, right?"

"Does Emb know?" I asked. Now that Emily had pointed out the similarities between Jake and Embry it was completely obvious. "I know I'm not the sharpest guy around, but he must have considered it, right?"

"He's never said anything about it to me. I talked to Tiffany when he first phased and she told me to butt out, so I have. It's really not our place to say anything, Paul." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I know that's not the answer you were looking for. Maybe he'll talk to you about it?" he suggested, giving me a sideways look and a shrug.

That seemed pretty doubtful. Embry was almost as stubborn as me; if there was something he didn't want to talk about there wasn't really much that I was going to be able to say to convince him otherwise.

"Maybe," I muttered with a shrug. "Who's running right now?" I asked, getting to my feet, thinking that a run might do my head some good.

"Jared," he answered.

"Thanks, Sam," I said as he turned his attention back to the mower as I turned to walk off into the trees.

I set out from Sam's backyard as fast as I could, not even bothering with seeing where Jared was. I was running to clear my head and hoped if I didn't engage with him he'd leave me to it. I had no such luck, of course. Jared was headed in the same direction I took off in and wasn't far behind.

'_Hey, Paul! We haven't run together in a while, what with work and all,' _he rambled on, picking up speed to catch up with me.

'_Yeah,'_ was all I gave him in return, trying to keep my mind neutral. Trying not to think about something is a sure fire way to end up thinking about it though and it only took one little slip before my mind went right to where it had been for the last week. Jared knew that something had been playing on my mind; he'd tried a few times at work to get me to open up about it, but had, for the most part, stepped back when I said I didn't want to talk about it.

It wasn't that I was ashamed of the whole situation with Embry, I wasn't; I was just hoping to have it a little more sorted out in my head before I had to face it head on with the rest of the guys. Somehow we had both managed to keep things under wraps whenever we were phased with someone else, but patrols had been stepped up lately because Sam said he'd scented another potential wolf phase and there had been more nomadic traffic lately, too.

I could feel Jared's shock wash over me, followed by anger. I knew it would be best to just deal with it head on, so I slowed down to let him catch up with me._ 'Whoa! Hold on a second? That faggot thinks he imprinted on you?'_

'_Jesus, Jared!' _I shot back at him, shocked over his word choice. I hadn't meant for the imprint to come out to the pack like that, not that I was ashamed of it—confused as fuck but not ashamed—but I hadn't expected Jared to be instantly angry about it either. I phased back and pulled my shorts on, not wanting Jared to get a look at anything else in my head before I figured out his sudden flair of rage.

He phased back right after and started talking before he finished putting his shorts on. "What the fuck man?"

"Calm down! What's your problem?" I yelled, cutting him off. I stepped forward, ready for whatever this unexpected anger of his might bring my way—a habit I had picked up from fighting with Embry over the last few months, oddly enough.

"When the hell did that happen? What the fuck is he thinking? You're not queer...fuck, are you?" he sneered at me in utter disgust.

"Fuck, Jared. What if I am, huh?" I spat taking another step forward.

I knew this sort of attitude would be something we'd face if I were to accept the imprint, but I didn't expect it from Jared. I had known Jared since we were kids and I had never seen him react so strongly to anything, and certainly had no idea he held such views.

"You're not!" He shook his head vehemently. "He's got no business imprinting on you, it's got to be a fucking mistake, man. You need to talk to Sam about this shit; get him to get the fag to back off you."

I pulled back and socked him one right in the face. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, not just that he spoke so lowly about Embry because he thought he was gay—we'd all thought he was, or at least might be, and Jared had never said sweet fuck all about it in the direction he was now—but that he would speak about a pack brother that way.

"Fuck! What the hell was that for?" he groused holding his jaw.

"Do you hear the shit that's coming out of your mouth, Jared?" I growled, pacing away from him and scrubbing my hands through my hair. "What if someone had talked to you like that when you imprinted on Kim? Or talked to Kim like that? You'd fucking tear their head off!"

"Christ, Paul, calm the fuck down. It's not like he actually imprinted on you..."

I cut him off by pushing him into the nearest tree before he had a chance to spout some more shit. I held my hand against his chest and got right in his face. "Shut your fucking mouth, you don't have the first fucking clue, man."

I wanted to throttle him; I wanted to beat the living shit right out of him. Even with all the fighting Emb and I had done recently I had never felt like beating someone as much as I did then; but, he wouldn't fight back, and that knowledge took the fire right out of me, so I walked away from him again.

"Shit! You're serious aren't you?" He gaped at me in disbelief. "Imprinting is for breeding...isn't it? Jesus, this is fucked up man."

"You think? Obviously that's not what it's about here, genius!" I snarked back at him.

"Well, you told him to fuck off right? I mean, you can't actually be considering accepting it..." I just turned and stared at him. Despite how long we had been friends, I felt like I didn't know him at all. "You are! You fucking are? What the hell, man?"

"I had no idea you were so homophobic, Jared," I said shaking my head at him.

"I had no idea you were a fucking homo! Since when are you into guys?"

"I'm not..." I sighed, realizing that wasn't entirely true; I was totally into Embry. "I mean...Fuck, I don't know what I mean." I sighed again.

"Jesus, Paul, how many times did you sleep over at my place? Don't you think you should have told me?" he stammered.

"Shut up, just shut the fuck up Jared. Will you listen to yourself? Believe me, I have never thought about you that way, ever, ok. Just...shut up a second. I can't even fucking think straight." I started pacing as Jared stared at me.

He was quiet for a long time, just watching me pace back and forth and was calmer when he finally spoke again. "You are considering it aren't you?" he questioned, watching me carefully.

I stopped my pacing, looked at him, and just nodded.

"Fuck...really?" he breathed, his eyebrows creasing.

"Yeah. I get to decide, right? I mean, I can just be his friend..." It sounded weak even to me.

"You can, but there's more to it than that, Paul. You don't understand the pull the imprint has on the wolf, man...unless...have you talked to him about this? Does he want to, like, fuck you?" his face scrunched up in pure discomfort at the very thought of it.

"Seriously, Jared? Do you honestly even want to know that?" I was getting pretty comfortable with the idea, but talking about it with Jared after his nasty performance a minute ago was definitely not high on my priority list.

"Oh shit, he does! And you're thinking about it, you sick bastard!" His look of renewed disgust set my rage off again.

"Yeah, Jared!" I was back up in his face, just waiting for him to give me an excuse to hit him for real. "He wants to fuck me and I **am** thinking about it. If that makes me a sick-o, or a faggot or what the fuck other narrow minded name you can think up, I guess I'm it! If you have a fucking issue with that, you talk to me about it. Right here, right now. I don't want to hear about your fucking ignorant mouth saying shit to him about it, ever! You got a problem, you talk to me. You clear on that?" I had my hand on his throat holding him to the tree. He just stared at me with his mouth hanging open like a fish on a line. "Are we fucking clear, Cameron?"

He nodded; his lips pressed together in a thin line. I couldn't tell if he was pissed off, worried or fucking scared and I didn't give a shit. I stared at him, raising my eyebrows to indicate I wanted a verbal agreement.

"Yeah, I hear ya," he said quietly.

I shoved him away from me and stormed off. I hadn't actually made it very far from the Res. So, I headed back on foot. I don't know why I had thought running with someone else would be okay; sure I had been able to keep things to myself for a few minutes at a time during patrol change, but actually running with someone else had been fucking stupid. Not like it really mattered. The rest of the guys were bound to find out sooner or later anyway. It wasn't a secret per se, I just hadn't expected Jared, my friend, to freak out quite so badly. It hadn't occurred to me that someone I knew would be so fucking narrow minded.

I walked back to Sam's. Now that Jared knew, it would be best for Emb and I to face the others and just get everything out in the open. Embry had said that it was my call on when to tell the guys so I knew he'd go along with this.

Sam called Quil and Jacob to meet at his place for the end of Jared's shift. We all knew that impromptu pack meetings usually meant shit was about to hit the fan, so the room was already pretty tense when Embry walked in. I'd texted him to give him the heads up, but he still looked a little wigged out as he sat against the wall next to Quil across the room from me.

Jared walked in a few minutes later, looking at me, then Embry before flopping down in the last chair. "So everyone fucking knew but me?" he barked at me with a glare. I just gave him a look that reminded him I wasn't putting up with his shit.

"Calm down, Jared. The attitude isn't going to help anything," Sam warned. I'd already spent the better part of an hour ranting at Sam over the confrontation I'd had with Jared earlier. He had been as shocked as I was over Jared's reaction. He'd said that being the only other imprinted wolf, that he would have anticipated support or at least understanding from him.

"Before we get into this, is everything clear out there?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, sure," Jared shrugged. "I did pick up a hint of a new wolf like you said, but I couldn't pin it down; it's too faint." Returning the conversation to business as usual seemed to placate him a little.

"Right, well, everyone just be aware of it then. It's still pretty early in the change I think. I'm sure we'll be able to figure out who it is before it gets away from them," Sam addressed the group.

"That's not really why we're here though, is it?" Quil's curiosity got the better of him. "I mean, Jared seems pretty pissed about something, and Embry looks like he's about to puke. No offence, man," he added, clapping his hand down on Emb's shoulder.

Embry shook his head and met Sam's inquiring look. He took a deep breath and stood up. I looked at Jared, disgust twisting his face into a scowl.

"I got this." I glared at Cameron giving him the 'not a fucking word' look before turning to face Jacob and Quil who both looked like they might keel over from curiosity any second. "Jared and Sam know, already, which just leaves you two. I don't want to hear any shit from either of you, right?"

"Jesus, man would you spit it out already? It can't be nearly as fucking bad as you're all making it out to be," Quil bitched.

"I imprinted..." Embry blurted out.

He was interrupted by the shocked exclamations from Jacob and Quil, "What?"

"What the hell, man?" Quil balked, followed by Jake's, "On who?"

"Me," I asserted. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at them, challenging them to say something, anything about it.

The room fell completely silent. I could feel everyone looking at me and I hoped I looked more confident about it all than I was feeling. I wasn't fucking ashamed, no matter how it looked or sounded, I just wasn't mentally prepared to deal with another shit storm.

Quil's cackle broke the quiet. "Nice try, guys. Whose idea was this?"

"I think he's serious," Jacob added and Quil's laughter died out as he looked at Embry again.

"Oh shit...Dude, seriously?"

Embry nodded. He dropped his head and stared at the floor a moment before looking back up and meeting each person's gaze. He finally settled back on me and I could see his uneasiness shed away.

The tension in the room seemed to fade away after that. The discussion of when and how was re-hashed for everyone. We let them know that nothing had really been decided between us yet, which spurred yet another intense awkward conversation. My life hadn't been necessarily private for the last six months or so, but the last week had been fucking murder as far as personal business went.

Jacob and Quil seemed cool with the whole mess, and even seemed a little relieved that there was a reason behind Embry spending less time with them since phasing. Surprisingly, Jared kept his mouth shut for the most part, too.

Emily invited us all to stay to eat, of course, and everyone but Jared hung around. He left as soon as Sam said he could. Work on Monday was going to be fun, but I'd deal with that when we got there. Hopefully once he had a chance to cool off things could go back to normal; whatever the fuck normal is.

Quil threw his arm across my shoulder as we walked into the kitchen and looked at Emb with his telltale impish look. "So, Embry's bitch, huh, Paul? We should have known!" he laughed, ducking away before I had a chance to slug him.

"Alright, knock it off!" Sam scolded and sat at the head of the table.

I watched as everyone sat down. If only Quil knew just how close to being right he was.


	9. Playing the Numbers Game

Dinner was tough, honestly. Embry and I were only just learning to be around each other as it was, and now we were under scrutiny from the others, too, which only brought the weird tension between us to the surface. And, on top of that we had to endure Quil's seemingly endless stream of questions. At least until Sam finally put an end to it after he'd asked if I were happy with the size of Emb's cock. It wasn't for either of us that Sam put an end to his prying though; I think it was more for his and Emily's sake.

Neither of us really wanted to hang around for more of Quil's interrogation, so we took off as soon as dinner was finished. Sam had already assigned Quil dish duty for running his trap so we were free to leave right after dinner.

Again we found ourselves walking the familiar path leading from Sam's place to the beach, neither of us really ready to part ways just yet.

"Do you think it will be easier now that we aren't trying to keep this quiet?" I asked hopefully.

"Maybe?" he sighed, clearly not thinking anything of the sort.

I couldn't help laughing at his defeated response; it was that or start pulling my hair out in anger all over again. And in all honesty, I was getting sick of being pissed off all the time. "Yeah, probably not."

We wound up sitting in the same spot we had less than a week ago, when I had asked him for some time to sort through everything. Neither of us said anything for a long time. We both sat quietly staring out at the water lapping against a large piece of drift wood that had washed up and been partially buried into the sand.

My mind ran over all the details and questions again. It seemed my brain had forgotten how to turn the fuck off and just relax. I still didn't know how the fuck we were supposed to go back to being just friends after everything that had already happened between us. Worse than that, I wasn't even sure if that's what I really wanted, which if Emb was right, was going to be a key determining factor on how this fucking imprint was going to play out.

The facts were that I didn't really want to be just friends with Embry. I wanted a whole fucking lot more than that. But I didn't want the lifetime commitment that went along with being more than friends. It was bad enough I was going to be tied to the Res. for the rest of my life without a hope of ever leaving; I couldn't strap myself to someone else, too. So, I was going to have to find some way of letting this connection between us go.

That was fine in theory, too. Except every time I even thought about someone else, I felt physically ill. Not even just someone else specifically. The very idea of someone that wasn't Embry made my stomach turn, and my wolf claw at the surface like he wanted to fucking kill me for even thinking it. Needless to say, I hadn't had sex since this whole thing had blown open. I was fucking horny all the time and it didn't seem to matter how often I jerked off, it just never went away; especially sitting in the sand next to him.

I wondered if he was going through the same shit; if he was managing to get by somehow. There was no way I was going to be able to bring that up and maintain the charade that this was simply two friends hanging out though.

Fuck.

I didn't even really know anything about him sexually speaking. For all I knew he was a fucking virgin. But he had said that he'd been with both guys and girls before, so I guess there must have been at least one of each for him to figure that out. Maybe?

I couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't saying anything, just sitting there staring ahead. I either needed to talk or get the fuck out of there; despite how uncomfortable sitting that close to him made me, I didn't really want to be away from him either.

"So, how many?" I asked finally, breaking the long silence. I picked at the sand to avoid looking at him. I didn't want to care about it, but I did. I had no business asking, and would probably have to answer the same question for him in return; a question I honestly didn't even know the answer to.

"How many what?" I glanced up to see his arched eyebrow punctuating his question as he looked sideways at me.

I took a deep breath before plowing ahead. "How many...people have you been with?" The saying really should be curiosity killed the wolf, not the cat, because it felt like not knowing was eating me up inside.

"Oh," he nodded. "You really want to play the numbers game?" I looked up to see if he raised his eyebrow again. Why did I find that hot? I shrugged and then nodded, not even able to pretend that I didn't need to know.

"Not as many as you," he offered with a sly grin.

"How many?" I asked again.

"Three." He was looking out at the water, and I just watched him for a minute.

Three. That was...not actually what I wanted to know, but I didn't realize it until he'd told me.

"You want the breakdown, don't you?" he asked without turning to look at me.

"Yeah, I guess I do," I rolled my eyes at myself. Did it really make a difference how many guys he'd been with before me in the long run? No. It wouldn't really impact my decision would it? "Forget it," I huffed and shook my head.

"Two girls," he stated abruptly, letting it hang in the air before continuing, "And a friend of my cousin. He fucked me, and then beat the shit out of me and warned me if I told anyone he'd kill me. Nice guy, right?" He laughed and shook his head at himself, still staring off into the ocean.

"Marcie and I went out for a while last year," he continued like he was talking about something as mundane as the score of the last Mariner's game.

"Armstrong?" I clarified, trying to keep up with him. I didn't know that he'd dated her; not that I really paid attention to high school bullshit like who was dating though.

He nodded. "Yeah. We messed around for a while, but she's so fucking boring." He burst out laughing and looked over at me with a stupid smirk on his face. I couldn't help laughing with him; I didn't know her at all but she certainly didn't seem like the most interesting person around.

"And I was just starting to see this guy in Forks before I went wolf, but nothing came of it." His voice became serious before he added, "I wasn't interested anymore." I could feel his eyes on me without even looking at him.

He'd lost interest because of the imprint.

I glanced over at him and as soon as our eyes met I felt his longing for me well up in myself; it was a powerful trip. I looked away, trying to stick to the boundaries we'd set, but fuck I wanted to touch him. I kept him talking instead.

"You said, three. There was someone after...well, me?" I asked, feeling stupid that I couldn't even say the word imprint.

He smirked sideways at me again. "Yeah," he nodded with another huffed laugh. "A few weeks ago. When all the kids from Forks came out for that end of class party?" he explained. I remembered the night; there had been a big bonfire and most of the seniors from Forks had been there as well as many of the Res. teenagers.

"I hardly even saw you that night," I admitted. I had been looking for him.

"I was there." He paused for a minute and then turned to look at me before he continued, "I was watching the girls lining up for you, and wondering why you kept shutting them down."

"Oh," was the only response I could come up with. I had gone down to the beach that night with every intention of picking up, and there had been plenty of girls looking for attention too, but none of them had been what I was wanting though. That had been right around the time I'd come to admit to myself that I wanted Embry. I went home alone.

"You left and I went off with the first girl that came my way."

"Who?" My curiosity was piqued.

"The blonde who had been after you all night," he stated flatly, like it wasn't completely messed up.

"Fuck, Emb," I scoffed; the girl was trashy even by my standards.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, a girl like that doesn't mind if you bend her over the hood of a car and pretend she's someone else." The implication of what he'd said was hard to miss. He looked at me with his penetrating stare again and I couldn't help reaching out to him.

"Don't," he said, causing my hand to stop in mid-air just before I touched his shoulder. "If you touch me right now, I'm going to lose it," he warned. I pulled my hand back. Part of me wanted him to lose it, but I knew I wasn't really ready yet for what would happen if he let go of his tightly guarded control. I let my hand fall back to the sand.

I could feel the tension coming off him in waves, like he was fighting a losing battle with his own body. I had no idea how he'd managed to keep this from me for months if this is what he'd been going through. Maybe having it out in the open acted like a catalyst? If that were the case, it was my fault he was suffering; I'd instigated this sexual tension between us by kissing him.

"This is all because I fucking kissed you, yeah?" I said looking over at him. He didn't have to acknowledge it; I knew it was true. "Maybe you should have just let me suck you off and we wouldn't be in this mess." It was a joke, a stupid fucking flippant remark, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth I wanted his cock in it again. I licked and bit my lower lip, studying him as he watched me intently.

"You fuck me and that seals the deal, right? What happens before that?" I waited but he didn't say anything. "What if I touch you? Why does it have to be all or nothing?" I reached my hand back up to curl around his left biceps. The contact was like a drug, and I was a fucking junkie jonesin' for a hit.

"Paul, don't," he protested, his words falling short of sounding even slightly convincing. I turned in the sand to face him, leaning forward and bracing my weight on one hand in the sand next to his thigh.

"Emb, I know I'm not the only one who's so fucking horny it feels like my skin is on fire." I leaned closer still, breathing him in; my face was only a few inches from his ear. "Am I?"

He was practically vibrating with the effort he was putting into not moving; not touching me.

"Paul..." he warned again.

"Embry?" I challenged him back defiantly, raising an eyebrow at him.

I rose up onto my knees and straddled one of his thighs, not touching him anywhere except with my hand still on his arm. I ran that hand up his shoulder and around to the back of his neck. His breath was labored and he shook a little under my touch. It felt fucking amazing to give in after denying myself any sort of satisfaction for so long. He looked up to where I hovered just in front of him, his eyes black and glazed, and his whole body trembling.

"Why are we doing this to each other?" I asked watching his reaction carefully; he didn't move a muscle. "I'm not ready for everything, but that doesn't mean there can't be anything—it doesn't mean you can't touch me, does it?" I waited a beat and he didn't answer. "For fuck's sake, Emb, touch me." I grabbed his hand from the sand beside him and pulled his open palm to my chest.

It was enough.

His mouth clamped over mine in a searing kiss as he grabbed me hard around the shoulder and the hip, pulling me tight to him. I gasped and grunted as he fell back in the sand, dragging me with him and turning me on my back.

It didn't last long—a few seconds only. A few intoxicating, invigorating seconds, before he pushed me away from him by the shoulders and jumped to his feet.

"Fuck, Paul, don't do that!" he huffed, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

I was only a step behind him as he stalked down the beach. I wasn't going to be put off now that I'd had a taste of what could take the ache away. It was pretty fucking clear that we were both suffering and in my mind it didn't need to happen. Unless he could give me a legitimate reason why it had to be all or nothing, I wasn't about to give in. I clapped my hand on his shoulder and he stopped; I stepped around to stand in front of him.

"Explain to me why it's got to be like that and I'll back off," I said, taking a step toward him. I had no fucking clue how guys were supposed to touch each other; all I knew is that I needed my skin on his. I rested my hand on his side just above his low hung shorts, my little finger resting in the groove of that fucking sexy cut of his hip. Why I found it sexy was crazy, fucking Spirit Wolf, voodoo, bullshit, but that didn't change the fact that I did. I wanted to run my tongue along that little trail, and follow where it disappeared into his shorts.

"It feels good, right? So, why can't I touch you?" I took another step forward.

"Please don't," he whispered slowly, closing his eyes and tipping his head back in concentration.

"Then you're going to have to hit me or something, Emb. I'm going fucking mental here, and you're not doing much better. If you won't let me touch you, then let's go." I waited a second and he still didn't move. "Come on. Hit me!" I goaded him on and shoved him backward.

"I'm not going to fight you Paul," he sighed, turning away from me.

"Either fucking hit me or kiss me, Embry," I persisted, pushing him again from behind. I had picked plenty of fights in the past, but none of them had the raw need driving them that this one did. "You never used to have a problem beating my ass."

He whipped around and hit me hard in the gut knocking the wind out of me; it felt almost as good as kissing him a minute before had. I hit him back and it quickly escalated into a full-on scrap until we were scrambling in the sand trying to best each other. It was a fucked up rush of a situation and I couldn't help laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Emb had his hand under my jaw pushing me away from him with his elbow locked trying to get me to release the headlock I had him in. I let him go as a fit of uncontrolled laughter spilled from me. I lay back in the sand, my chest heaving as Embry crumpled down next to me, joining in on the giggle-fest.

We went from making out like the horny teenagers we are, to brawling and grappling with each other for dominance, to lying in the sand laughing so hard we had tears rolling down our faces all in a matter of minutes. We lay there in the sand catching our breath after we'd managed to stop laughing, just staring up at the night sky. Eventually, I sat up, shaking the sand out of my hair and wiped a hand over my face.

"Come here," Embry heaved a surrendering sigh, shuffling toward me on his knees. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back against his chest, settling in the sand behind me. "I'm sorry this is so hard," he whispered against the back of my neck. His lips lightly brushing against my skin sent a chill through me; it wasn't a kiss but it wasn't not a kiss either. It hinted at so much more.

I closed my eyes, clutching his forearm across my chest and melted into him. I hated how fucking good it felt to be held, yet silently prayed that he wouldn't let me go. "I don't want to touch you because I'm afraid I won't be able to stop when you ask me to," he confessed into the tiny space between us. I thought to myself if this is how it felt when he finally touched me, I don't think I would ever ask him to stop.

We sat in the sand for a long time silently taking comfort in each other.


	10. No Holding Back

I lay in bed later that night running through everything that had happened. Thinking back on how my body had reacted to the way Emb had pushed me into the sand and kissed me briefly—too briefly—there was really no denying anymore that I wanted something physical from him. I had never fucking felt like that with anyone before. Hell, even just sitting with his arms around me had fucked with my head.

I totally fucking wanted him.

I was going to have to find some way to wrap my head around the fucking imprint, or some way to get him the fuck out of my system and move on, because there was no fucking way I was going to go the rest of my life without getting laid again. Fuck, it had already been ten days; I had practically rubbed my dick raw.

Of course, thinking about Emb was making me fucking hard—again. I palmed my dick over the sheet, trying to relieve the pressure; jerking off thinking about him wasn't really the best way to go about trying to get past this fucking obsession I'd developed with Embry. But, fuck, feeling his body pushing me into the ground had been exactly what I had been craving. My hips arched off the bed into my touch and I realized there was no fucking way I was going to get to sleep without taking care of this.

I lazily rubbed my hard-on over the sheet a bit as I thought about all the things Emb had shown me he wanted to do to me. There was no denying it was fucking hot, even if the idea of submitting to him that way kind of freaked me out—okay, more than kind of; it scared the hell out of me. I didn't like being out of control, ever, and that's exactly what he wanted me to give up.

I remembered how he had pinned me against the wall in the living room that first night. Even then, before I knew the full extent of what the imprint entailed, I had practically been ready to bend over for him. Fuck, this imprint voodoo bullshit made me lose my fucking mind. I tried to pull on all the moments he'd touched me at all in the last couple of weeks, remembering the little thrill that ran through me with every single one.

I slid my hand over my stomach and under the sheet remembering the feel of his hands on me, and how he'd said he wanted to taste every inch of my skin.

Fuck.

I stroked myself a couple of times before deciding dry wasn't going to cut it, and I grabbed the lube from the side table. I ran my slicked hand up and down my cock, focusing on the memory of Embry's hands on me; how he'd run his tongue over my throat before kissing me, how he wanted to taste me, how it had felt to have his weight over me and my wrists held—even if it had set off a minor panic attack at the time—how being moved where he had wanted me was so god-damned hot, how he'd pinned me to the floor, how he'd flipped me on my back and covered me with his body tonight on the beach.

Okay, I was clearly more than ready to consider this whole fucked up mess, at least in theory, anyway. I fucking wanted Embry, that wasn't even in question anymore—I wasn't even really thrown by the idea of getting fucked.

Emb fucking me wasn't something I hadn't thought about—fuck I'd hardly thought about anything else in over a week—but I'd never really thought about the reality of that situation, what exactly it would involve. I reached my lube covered hand lower between my legs and lightly rubbed my hole. I wasn't completely unfamiliar with ass play; a couple of the girls I'd been with had fingered me a little while sucking me off, but I'd never even considered doing it to myself.

I pushed against my ass until my finger sunk in to the first joint, making me gasp at the feeling of intrusion. I grabbed the base of my cock in a firm grip with my other hand as a means of distraction more than anything. Fuck, that was intense. I slowly moved my finger in and out a little, getting used the feeling, and tried to think of Embry working me over like this; opening me up so he could fuck me. Jesus, yeah, I was clearly okay with the idea.

I swiped my thumb over the slit in my cock, gathering the bead of pre-come there and stroking up and down in time with my finger in my ass. I added a second finger after I'd relaxed a bit around the first. Two was tight; having Emb's cock up my ass was going to take some fucking work.

I rolled over and tucked my knees up, lifting my ass in the air allowing me to reach behind for a better angle. I arched my back as I slid my fingers all the way back in my hole. I curled them down as I slid them back out and pushed my face into the mattress to choke off the moan that tore out of me. Fuck, apparently gay sex was the answer after all; who gave a fuck what the question was.

It didn't take long from there for things to get a little sloppy. It became less about figuring things out and all about getting off. All conscious thought was gone. I fisted my aching cock and pumped my fingers into my ass and against my prostate, because that was fucking magic or some shit. I came with a shout around a mouthful of my pillow—the old man was actually home for once—and didn't even have enough brain capacity to stop from blowing my load all over the sheets.

I pulled my hand out of my ass and collapsed on my side. The mess would have to wait until the morning because moving after that wasn't really a fucking option.

Things changed after that night on the beach. We didn't go out of our way to avoid touching each other; we just went with what felt natural. It didn't even matter if we were around other people—the only other people we spent time with were pack anyway and they already knew what was happening between us. There wasn't anything overtly sexual about it though, just the need to know that the other one was around: his fingers resting lightly between my shoulder blades as we stood around talking in a group, sitting next to each other at pack meetings or when we ate at Sam and Emily's and letting our thighs touch, shoulders brushing together when we walked, hands left on shoulders a beat longer than normal when parting—just little things, but enough to take the edge off and let us start to think straight. I still struggled with what to do about the imprint, but at least I was able to focus when it came time to put some serious thought into it.

We spent more time alone together too, and it was clear then, that the sexual tension was still there between us. We pushed it aside and kept the boundaries, but I found myself leaning into him, wanting his arms around me. We were almost always touching somehow when we were alone together.

I'm sure rumors would have started to fly around the Res. about us if the whole tribe hadn't already exhausted the rumour mill over the pack. People had stopped staring whenever more than one of us went anywhere, so nobody really took notice of how close Emb and I had become; nobody but Tiffany Call that is.

Emb's mom had been watching us on an increasingly regular basis whenever I was around their place. We kept things casual around her, trying to act like any other guys hanging around, but she'd have to be an idiot not to see that there was more to us than that. She might be a bitch, but she's not an idiot.

I was sitting in the kitchen waiting for Emb to shower after his patrol shift when she came home from shopping one afternoon.

"I think I see you more than my own son, these days," she snipped as she walked past me with her arms loaded with grocery bags. I followed her to the counter and started putting the groceries away—I had been spending _that_ much time there—I could feel her glaring at me.

"Doesn't your father wonder where you are?" she asked with venom in her tone. She didn't like me, I couldn't blame her; I was a bad fucking influence on anyone I came in contact with, and mostly that had been Emb lately. To say the feeling was mutual was an understatement, however.

"No," I shot back at her. I listened to make sure the water was running, so Emb wouldn't overhear me before I continued. I walked up beside her, taking the box of cereal she held from her and lowered my voice, "You think Embry's dad ever wonders about him, Tiff? I bet he does." If looks could kill, I would have fallen over stone dead with the look she gave me. "I bet Emb wonders about him too, huh? Wonders if he maybe has a brother or, maybe a couple of sisters?"

She balked at that, realizing that I wasn't just speculating, but out right accusing.

"You listen to me, you little shit. Drop it. It's none of your God-damned business." She was standing in front of me, punctuating her vehement words with jabs of her finger into my chest. I thought I had been angry before, but a new anger bubbled up inside me as she continued her rant. "I'm his family. He doesn't need anyone but me. You don't get to come in here and tell me what's best for him. You don't know what you're talking about."

"We both know that I do, Tiffany. You can lie to yourself that it doesn't bother him all you want, it doesn't make it true. You keeping it from him is bad enough, but _**him**_," I pointed vaguely in the direction of Black's house. "He's watched him grow up and has not said a fucking word about it? How could you let that happen?" Her face paled and her eyes widened. She couldn't even pretend that I didn't know anymore.

I heard the water shut off. I knew I needed to finish this up, or he'd walk right into the middle of it, and if there was even a chance he didn't know that Billy was his father, this was not the way for him to find out.

"Out! Get out of this house!" She bellowed at me.

I tossed the cereal box on the counter and stormed out. I knew Emb would find me easily enough, so I didn't bother waiting around to tell him I was leaving.

I was only waiting a few minutes before he came out and sat next to me on the curb in front of his house. We sat quietly for a while, neither of us saying anything or even looking at each other. My anger slipped away; his closeness calming me. After a while he stood and put his hand out to pull me to my feet as well. Still holding on to my hand, he turned and led me back into the house.

Tiffany glared at me as Embry pulled me back into the kitchen behind him. Her eyes landed on our linked hands before turning her attention to her son.

"He's here because I want him to be, and I'm hoping that he decides to stick around. If you've got a problem with that you should say so now, and I'll find somewhere else to live," his words cut through the quiet kitchen and hit the target exactly as he must have intended them to. Tiffany's face was frozen in shock as she looked quickly between us and settled on Embry again.

"This is not how I raised you," her snide remark was immediately followed by further cutting words from Emb.

"No, Mom, you raised me to question everything about who I am!" he snapped, dropping my hand and stalking forward to loom over his mother. "I know now who I am and what I want, no fucking thanks to you." He turned around and walked back toward me, scrubbing his hands though his hair.

Tiffany's next words stopped Embry in his tracks. "You can do so much better, Embry," she said, her voice quiet but her hate-filled eyes focused on me.

"Yeah, maybe I can, but I don't want better," he answered. I could feel his eyes on me as I watched for her reaction, which never came. I'd had my fair share of shouting matches with my dad but had never been witness to anyone else's before. I wanted to be anywhere but standing in that kitchen with them, but knew I couldn't leave Embry.

Eventually, she turned her attention back to putting the groceries away. He didn't move; standing still like he was expecting her to say something else.

"Come on," I said, turning to Embry and motioning toward the back door with my head. I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him out the door ahead of me, not taking my hand off his shoulder until we were well within the tree line. My mind was freaking the fuck out, but he was on the verge of a melt down so I knew I had to hold my shit together. He had just laid it all out on the line for his mom, not only admitting that there was something happening between us, but telling her that he was looking to make it into something serious—if only she knew just how fucking serious. I didn't know if Tiffany knew about Embry's sexuality before now or not, but she certainly wasn't happy about me being part of that equation.

"Talk or run?" I asked him when we were deep enough into the trees that she wouldn't see or hear us from the back yard.

"Neither," he sighed heavily. He turned to face me, studying my face a moment before stepping forward and burying his face in my neck. He didn't touch me anywhere else, just rested his head where my neck and shoulder met. I didn't know how to respond; I didn't have much experience with affection or comforting anyone when shit went bad, but he clearly needed me to do something. I raised my hand to the back of his neck and I could feel him relax a little at the touch. We stood there quietly for what seemed like a long time before he stood up and pulled away.

"Thanks," he said looking up at me.

"Yeah, sure." I really didn't know what he was thanking me for, honestly, but he seemed so freaked out about the whole situation.

We stood facing each other, only a few inches between us, but not touching at all. He continued to stare at me for a long drawn out minute; his whole body was rigid with tension. He was practically vibrating. I watched quietly, not fully sure what was going on inside his head and left at a complete loss as to how I was supposed to make it better.

He finally broke the tenuous silence by drawing in a deep breath and letting it flood out of his lungs in a heavy sigh before he spoke. "I'm going to run for a while."

I didn't know if I should offer to go with him or not. Part of me wanted to find out what he was thinking about that had gotten him so worked up. I didn't think it was simply the argument with his mom, I was pretty sure that was a pretty regular conversation between them—at least the part about her not fessing up about who his father was anyway. Maybe he was freaking out about having just come out to her about me? From what I had learned about Emb in the last few weeks, that didn't really seem like him though.

"Come by later? She'll be gone to work by 4:30," he asked, stopping my rambling thoughts about what I should do for me.

I nodded. He stood in front of me another minute before turning to walk deeper into the forest, reaching his hand behind his shoulder and pulling his shirt over his head as he went. I forced myself to turn and head back before he dropped his shorts though, I was having a hard enough time keeping my mind focused when he kept his clothes on.


	11. Not Okay

We were at his place playing some damn video game or other. I couldn't tell you which one, even if I tried; I couldn't concentrate. It had been over two weeks since this whole mess had opened up, since that first kiss in the forest. I was tired of being confused, tired of being scared.

I couldn't focus on the game at all, I kept thinking over everything. I could feel him watching me and knew, if I gave in and looked back at him, that something was going to happen. I could just feel it in the air, the way we hadn't been talking much all day, just looking and touching.

I finally turned slowly and stared at him. It was clear instantly that he felt it too. The whole thing became suddenly real to me; I wanted to let go of all the boundaries.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, his eyes flicking over my face.

I felt like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room. "No, not really," my voice wavered.

He was too fucking close and not nearly close enough. I leaned forward just slightly—wanting him to kiss me without being too forceful about it; asking for it but trying to let him know I wasn't pushing him. He got the message loud and clear.

He reached his hand behind my neck and drew me closer. He searched my eyes for a split-second before taking my mouth with his in a soft, wet kiss.

I couldn't stop the gasp that that first contact tore out of me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could do was focus on the surge of...of whatever the fuck it was coming from him. Need was too simple to describe it. It was too hot and too fucking cold, frenzied and intensely calm, fast and painfully slow, everything and absolutely nothing all at the same time.

All of the other times we had kissed had been hard and driven by some form of desperation, and I had felt like I had been begging for every single one of them. This one was different. He hesitated only a second before deepening the kiss as we turned in toward each other. His fingers on the back of my neck made my skin burn, and his mouth against mine made it feel like my brain was short-circuiting. I could feel the panic begin to rise up in me and I fought hard to keep it in check. I wanted to stay there and give in but my flight instinct was scratching for attention. It was suddenly way too fucking intense in there.

I pulled back, changed my mind and kissed him again then broke away a second time. I didn't pull myself completely away from him though—I couldn't—leaving one of my hands still gripping his forearm and the other resting on his thigh.

I knew I wanted him. I was just too fucking terrified to take the leap. Forever is a long fucking time to be tied to someone when you've basically been alone your whole life.

"I have to go," I breathed, leaning in to take his mouth with mine again a second later. He let me.

"Okay," he agreed, sliding his hand around my side and pulling me closer still. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, and felt my breath hitch in my throat. He ran his tongue over my bottom lip before plunging it into my mouth.

I needed to get out of there before this led to something I wasn't ready for, but I didn't want to stop kissing him—I didn't feel like I could stop. It had happened so naturally; it wasn't forced or desperate. Every part of me buzzed and ached for more, despite being fucking terrified.

I shifted on the couch, ready to stand and leave, but not able to drag myself away. If I stayed things were going to get serious—fast—and I hadn't made that decision—not yet. His hand on my neck tightened, wanting to keep me there, but I knew he'd let me go if I pulled away and actually meant it.

Finally, I broke away and stood up, repeating to him that I had to go. Then, like I hadn't even spoken, I bent and kissed him again. He sighed and pulled me back toward him with just enough force to let me know I could still leave if that's what I wanted, but that he'd rather I stayed. He wasn't demanding; his hands hardly touching me, but every touch said so much. Fuck, it was torture; delicious, agonizing, mind-fucking torture.

I had one knee back on the couch between his legs, his hands on my hip and the back of my leg as he stretched up and I bent to meet his mouth again.

"I'm gonna go," I gasped as he lowered his mouth to my neck. The scratch of his stubble sent a chill down my spine.

"You keep saying that," he chuckled against my skin, running his hand up the back of my thigh and stopping just under the curve of my ass.

Fuck, that felt too good.

He stretched up to claim my mouth again with a hard, biting kiss. I pulled his hands away slowly, took a tiny step back to stand on both feet again, and pulled my mouth reluctantly from his.

I turned and walked away, and it was one of the hardest fucking things I have ever done in my life.

I hadn't made it two houses down the block before I cracked. A rage so pure it felt like acid ran through me and I swung out at the nearest thing in my path, my fist connecting with a telephone pole. The wood splintered and tore into my knuckles.

"Fuck!" I shouted. I scrubbed my hands over my face roughly and stopped to turn back toward Embry's house. I wanted to go back.

I wanted to run as far away as I could. I wanted to fucking kill him for imprinting even though I _knew_ it wasn't his fault. I wanted things to go back to normal—I couldn't even remember what normal felt like. But mostly, I wanted him; all of him.

I couldn't pretend even to myself anymore that what I felt was just because of the imprint. I wanted him and I didn't need a fucking reason to justify it. It was like craving something specific, but not being able to identify what it was. I turned back around and kept walking.

By the time I'd made it home I knew there was no hope of sleeping. I skipped going in the house, heading straight for the backyard stripping my clothes as I went, and phased as soon as I hit the tree line.

Quil was on shift. He wisely decided against any sort of greeting once he took stock of my mood, instead letting me know he was there if I wanted to talk. Then he proceeded to run through episodes of _South Park_ as he went about his business and left me to mine.

I ran.

I ran as fast and as fucking hard as my legs would carry me. I didn't have a destination. I wasn't even really paying attention to where I was going. I just needed to get away: away from the fucking confusion that plagued me at every turn; away from the noise and the longing that haunted me whenever I was around Embry; just away. I ran until my muscles burned and screamed for me to stop, and then I ran further, pushing until the pain of exhaustion was the only thing I could feel.

It was probably hours before I stopped—crashed was more like it. I couldn't physically go any further. I stood in an unfamiliar stream, the cool water soothing my burning, tired feet. I wasn't in our territory anymore, that much was clear. I drank from the stream, cooling my parched mouth, before climbing to the bank and lying down.

It was quiet too; I couldn't hear Quil or anyone else. I was alone for the first time in more months than I cared to remember.

Thinking a problem through was sometimes easier in wolf form. Animal instinct played a key role in decisions for the wolf. Maybe easier wasn't the right way to say it, but it was simpler—more instinctual; but even my wolf couldn't reconcile this dilemma.

Embry wanted me. Why? Because the Great Spirits had deemed it right somehow.

The tribal elders thought of imprinting as the wolf's way of choosing a compatible mate for breeding, but both Sam and Jared had argued that there was way more than just pups involved. It couldn't be about breeding future wolves in mine and Embry's case anyway, so there had to be more to it. None of the Elders had bothered to come up with any sort of explanation for our case. Mostly they preferred not to deal with it, I think. Billy was the only one that even acknowledged it as a true imprint; he didn't condemn the situation, but he hadn't condoned it either.

Embry and I were similar in many ways but completely different in others. We'd both grown up with only one parent around, and only in the minimum capacity at that. We'd both faced hardships because of it, too. Emb was an outsider and a bastard who didn't know who his father was. My mother had been the town whore before she left Dad and me, and as it turned out this apple hadn't fallen far from that tree. My old man wasn't an angel either and had only managed to stay out of jail on luck. That wasn't enough to warrant linking us together for-fucking-ever, was it?

Other than the whole broken home shit, and both having the misfortune of turning into vampire-hunting wolves—_seriously, this is my fucking life?!_—there was very little that we had in common. I'm a fucking volatile asshole, even I know that. I use people to get what I want and don't give a shit about what it costs them.

Okay, so that's not entirely fucking true. I used people but only those that wanted to be used. I'm selfish as fuck, but I'm not going to fuck somebody else's life up for them. People seem pretty good at fucking their own lives up, really.

Embry? Fuck, Embry's a saint compared to me. I'm sure he's gotten into his share of shit, but I'd never heard anything about it. He's crazy fucking smart and genuinely a nice guy. He really got the short end of the stick getting pegged with me for the rest of his life. Until recently he'd been even tempered and calm, but that went out the fucking window as soon as I opened this shit wide open by kissing him. He was almost as fucking moody as me these days.

That was part of the struggle I had been facing. How the fuck some mystical force had determined we were a good fit was beyond me. Sure, Embry had already made a positive impact on me—it was hard to notice that I had way less of a hair trigger the last couple of weeks; the only person I'd fought with in over a month was Emb. But what the fuck was a guy like me supposed to add to his life? So far I'd only managed to fuck it up and piss him off, and that didn't even include the war I seemed to be causing between him and his Mom.

If I thought there was a chance that either of us would survive it, I would have fucking left La Push already. But after what we'd gone through when we had spent the better part of a week simply avoiding each other, I wasn't about to attempt it until I had more knowledge of what might happen.

If I were honest, really truly, fucking honest about the whole thing. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to be away from him. I wanted to soak up the attention he lavished on me for no good reason. It made me feel complete somehow; like I had been empty my whole life just waiting for him to fill that void. And that scared the shit out of me. I had spent as far back as I could remember being as independent as I could manage, and now I could hardly go a day without him.

Jesus, I know I sound like some fucking romance novel chick, but that's the truth of it. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't just want Embry, I needed him. Maybe, if I was a lucky asshole—and I couldn't even hope to dream that I was—but just maybe, he needed me too, in a way that wasn't dictated by the fucking imprint.


	12. Realizations

Chapter 12: Realizations

The sun was warm on my face as I slowly drifted awake. Somewhere to my left I could hear something small rustling in the underbrush. A rabbit maybe? The sound of the stream trickling along tried to lull me back to sleep but consciousness filtered back in little by little.

Why was I sleeping outside?

Why was I sleeping outside naked?

Bits and pieces of the night before came back to me as sleep slipped further and further away.

I remembered running—running away. Not from Embry. I'd been running from myself and my own fucked up brain. That was pretty stupid really.

I rolled onto my back and scrubbed my hands over my face, trying again in vain to sort out the jumble in my head. I raked my fingers through my hair as I sat up to dislodge the pine needles. I crouched by the stream and splashed the cold water over my face to help wash away the last bit of sleep—better than coffee.

Something hit me in the back, putting my wolf instantly on alert, but I quickly recognised it was Sam and relaxed again.

"You alright?" he asked as I picked up the shorts he'd thrown at me and put them on.

I nodded, turning to face where he leaned against a tree a few feet from where I had been sleeping. There was no way he could have been there before I'd gone down to the stream, even as fried as I was, I knew my senses weren't that fucked up.

"You scared the hell out of Quil," Sam said with a quirked eyebrow as if he expected me to just start spilling my guts. I couldn't help but laugh at that. I can only imagine what Quil had thought was going down. He would have at least told Sam what he'd picked up from me while he was still phased; I'd guess since Sam had come to find me he'd been phased until I had settled on the stream bank.

"I guess that makes two of us then," I snorted. Sam padded forward to the bank barefoot, meaning he'd run out to find me. We sat on the edge of the stream, the burbling of the water the only sound for a long drawn out moment.

"What happened?" Sam finally asked. His question wasn't a demand or dripping with sympathy, it was simply an invitation for me to start talking.

"I freaked the fuck out and I just needed to run," I huffed.

"Yeah, I got that much from Quil," Sam said. "Did Embry push you?" He was clearly not entirely comfortable with that idea himself; I could feel his tension and anxiousness beside me.

"No! Fuck, no, Sam. That's the thing," I sighed. "He didn't push at all. I wanted..." I reigned in that thought before I over shared. "It wasn't him. It's all in my fucking head."

We sat quietly another moment.

"You've been pretty clear on how you feel about imprinting in general, but Emily and I are happy, Paul. It's honestly the best thing that's ever happened to me. I know the situation with you and Embry is different, but I just thought that, I don't know, that it might help for you to hear that," Sam said with a heavy sigh and clapped his hand down on my shoulder. "I wish there were more I could say to help you."

"Thanks, Sam. I'm working through it," I admitted more to myself than to him.

And it was true. I had actually come to some pretty clear realizations during all the turmoil. Spending time with Embry, despite being confusing as hell, felt good—it felt right. I didn't fucking care that he was a dude. I knew that we'd face trouble from people like Jared, and that sucked, but I knew now that I would always have Emb's back, and that he'd have mine too, if it came to it.

I fucking wanted him. I couldn't pretend anymore that I didn't. I was even starting to think that having someone there for me no matter what shit went down, forever, wasn't such a scary fucking idea after all.

Almost.

"Come on, Emily should have breakfast ready soon," Sam said, slapping me on the back and getting to his feet.

We phased and headed back to the Res. I had run further than I realised and the trek back took a while. I knew it was useless to try and keep my mind off what had happened between Emb and I that had caused my melt down. Sam was understanding and tried to keep me focused on other things. He relayed the latest news about the new wolf while we ran. Quil had scented him again last night before I had shown up. Sam said he wasn't sure but that he thought it might be Seth Clearwater. The poor kid was only thirteen.

* * *

This new phase of this crazy imprint thing was the hardest to deal with yet. I couldn't be in the same room as Embry without wanting to jump him. He was like a fire that burned just below the surface of my skin. We had given up pretending that this wasn't sexual; there was no way to deny it. I was rock-fucking-hard for him all the fucking time and spending time with him when the others were around was pure torture.

We hadn't spent any time alone together since two nights before when playing video games had turned into a dangerously serious make-out session. I didn't trust myself to be alone with him since then, honestly. My brain shut down completely around him and all I could think about was fucking; about being fucked. When I was able to think straight I knew I still wasn't fully ready to accept the imprint, which is why I wouldn't let myself be alone with him.

We were walking back from the beach where we'd been tossing the football around before we met back at Sam and Emily's to eat. As long as someone else was around we were able to keep ourselves in check, but we'd fallen a little behind the rest of the pack who were joking and laughing, and basically ignoring that we weren't right with them—probably intentionally giving us some space.

Jared broke off to head home to Kim once we hit Sam's driveway and the rest of the guys went right up the stairs and in through the front door. Emb grabbed me as soon as the door banged shut behind Quil and pushed me up against the side of the house under the kitchen window, his mouth attacking mine before my back hit the siding. He grabbed me on either side of my face and kissed me hard, licking and biting and tasting; his hands roaming down my body, touching and grabbing and holding. It was pure fucking ecstasy. He was everywhere and I couldn't get enough of it. It was rough and hard and desperate; too much and not even close to being enough at the same fucking time.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do that all day," he growled into my neck before biting down on a tendon. I choked back the moan that tried to escape; with three other wolves sitting just on the other side of the wall we didn't really have much privacy to speak of.

"Jesus, would you two just do it and get it over with?" Quil laughed from the porch, pulling us abruptly back to reality. We'd been so wrapped up in each other that we hadn't noticed that he and Jacob had come back outside, and were standing leaning over the porch railing. We both jumped at the sound of Quil's voice, panting as we pulled ourselves together.

"Embry, Sam wants us to run a quick perimeter before we eat. Let's go," Quil said still laughing and bounding down the steps. Emb smirked at me cockily as he walked backwards toward the tree line. He turned around after a few steps but turned back before he disappeared into the trees after Quil, maybe to see if I was still watching, which of course I was.

"What are you doing, Paul?" Jacob asked once they were out of ear shot.

"Can it, Black, I don't want to hear your shit," I said and laid my head back against the house, needing a minute before I was ready to go inside. I had automatically jumped on the defensive whenever Embry came up since my fight with Jared, who hadn't spoken to me much outside pack business since, which really made working together a fucking joy.

"Seriously? You're practically gagging for it. Why don't you cut yourself and him some slack already; it's not like you to drag your feet when it comes to sex," he said more serious than I had ever seen him before.

"It's not really that simple," I huffed. Jacob and I weren't really that close and I wasn't exactly comfortable talking to him about my potential sex life with Embry.

"Isn't it? Come on, man. A blind man could see that you've already accepted him, Paul. You're just torturing yourselves," he stopped and gave me a meaningful look, "and everyone else around you," he scoffed. "It's not hard to see where this is headed."

I sat down on the stairs, scrubbing my fingers through my hair; he made a good point. Jacob sat down next to me.

"You could do a lot worse," he offered.

"Yeah, I know," I agreed without hesitation. "Why do you care all of a sudden?" I asked looking over at him curiously.

"I don't want this to end with Emb getting hurt; he's practically my brother." The way Jake said brother made me wonder if he knew the truth.

I huffed a derisive laugh, "Yeah, practically." The sarcasm in my tone was impossible to miss, and Jake pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at me, pretty much confirming that he did know Embry was his half brother.

We sat for a few minutes before either of us spoke again. Having the truth out there between us was a little overwhelming; it was clear that neither of us knew what to do with it.

"Does he know?" Jake finally asked quietly. It was obvious he was trying to keep his voice low enough not to be overheard.

"He won't talk about it. His mom hasn't told him though; she won't. Have you talked to Billy about it?" I questioned Jake; I had a hard time even thinking about Billy without my blood pressure rising since I'd found out he was Embry's father and had denied him his whole life.

"No. Just enough for him to not confirm it when I asked about it. He didn't deny it either, but the more I thought about it the more obvious it became." He paused, picking at the dirt under his finger nails. "My dad cheated on my mom when she was pregnant with me and my best friend is actually my brother...and I thought turning into a wolf at will was completely fucked up," he shrugged and laughed.

I laughed with him. It was that or get pissed off about something I couldn't do anything about, and really, it was pretty fucking funny.

"Alright ladies, quit your gossiping and get in here before the grub is gone," Quil said through the screen door. I hadn't realised that Jacob and I had been talking long enough for Quil and Embry to have gotten back from their perimeter run already.

* * *

That night I laid awake, staring at the ceiling, reflecting on the last few weeks. I knew that I was able to set the terms of whatever relationship—_relationship? fuck!_—that I would have with Embry, but I couldn't deny that I was drawn to him physically—sexually. I spent far more time thinking about him than I ever had any girl. I craved being close to him, but it was more than that. I wanted all of the things he said he'd do to me if I submitted to him.

I thought over the conversation I had with Jake. He was right in a way; I had already come to terms with the imprint and my feelings for Emb, even if I hadn't accepted it fully and given myself to him. The more I thought about it the more I came to realize that I liked the idea of belonging to someone unconditionally, and of belonging to him specifically.

The idea of letting him fuck me had been a mental stumbling block for me at first, but the longer I spent thinking about it, the more I came to realize that was how it had to be, and I'd actually come to like the idea—thinking about it made me hard. The last week had shown that the physical side of this could be explosive if we let it; we had hardly been able to keep our hands off each other. I wanted him to fuck me; to claim me as his.

I turned my head to look at the clock on the bedside table. 4:26 am. I wasn't going to get any sleep at all. I needed to talk to him again, but I was starting to realize for myself that I was nearly ready to accept the imprint on his terms. I was fucking antsy, and almost called him despite the crazy early hour—it wasn't even light out yet.

I decided on a run instead. There wouldn't be anyone on patrol until 6:00, and running through the trees at top speed always helped to clear my mind.

I tied a pair of athletic shorts to my ankle and crept down the hall and out the back door, careful not to step on the creaky spot in the kitchen so the old man wouldn't wake up and rag on me about sneaking out again. I walked across the back yard to the tree line, not caring about walking around naked in the dark and phased as soon as I was hidden from any potential onlookers.

I ran hard, pushing myself until I could feel the burn in my legs and lungs, and stopped at the top of Strawberry Bay Falls just as the sun started to lighten the sky. I drank from the stream feeding the falls and sat quietly listening to the water pour over the cliff. A sense of calm that I hadn't felt in months swept over me. Everything fell into place. It didn't matter that Embry was a guy or if I was straight or gay or what-the-fuck-ever. It didn't matter that it was some fucked up mystical wolf voodoo that had brought us together. It didn't matter what Jared or anyone else would think. All that mattered was that he was the key to feeling whole, and all I had to do was let go and give in to what he wanted—what I wanted. I needed to see him more than I had before I left, but I was far less anxious and panicked on my return trip, taking my time.

I was nearly back to the Res. when I felt someone phase in—Jacob—making me realize it must be 6:00.

_''Morning, Paul.'_ I felt his curious greeting radiate toward me through our linked minds. _'Everything alright, man?'_ the concern was so evident in his thoughts I could visualize his frantic worried facial expression to go along with it. Everyone knew about my running off in a panic last week.

_'Yeah, everything's cool. I just couldn't sleep,'_ I projected back to him, focusing on my surroundings rather than my destination. He knew all about what was going on between Embry and I, hell, he'd been the one that had got me thinking so hard about it last night, but I still wanted to keep my decision from him for now. It was between Emb and I; it wasn't really anyone else's business.

_'Anything interesting? How far did you run?'_ he asked.

_'Not far. Just out to the falls and back. Nothing out of the ordinary.'_ I was getting close to Embry's place, and stopped back a little way with nothing but trees around and kept my eyes on the ground—nothing to give Jake a clue as to where I was. Without being physically there to see where I was he could easily think it was near my own house. _'Right, I'm out.'_

_'Okay, try and get some shut eye, man. You seem tired,'_ Jacob suggested. I suppose I had been so high strung lately that my calmness would be noticeable, but being tired wasn't the reason behind my change of mood.

I phased out and pulled on my shorts, walking the rest of the way through the trees.

I waited in the trees behind his place until I heard his Mom's car back out of the driveway and pull down the street. The sun had only been up a little over an hour. I was tired, and fucking starving, but I needed to see him first before I dealt with anything else.

I had been there enough to know that, like many other families on the Res. they didn't lock their back door. I let myself in and walked silently down the hall to his room. I could tell from his breathing and heart rate that he wasn't deeply asleep—just starting to wake up.

Perfect.


	13. Falling Into Place

The bedroom door squeaked when I opened it and he stirred. I closed it and leaned my shoulders against it, watching as he woke up. Being surrounded by his scent in the small bedroom made it nearly impossible to hold myself back. His eyes landed on me as soon as they opened.

"How long were you out there?" he croaked, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"A while..." I said, pushing off the door to stand straight as he sat up in the bed and ran his hand over his face in an attempt to wake up fully.

"I can feel you." His statement was simple but the look he gave me was anything but; it cut right through me.

"Yeah?" I stalked across the carpet to the bed, him watching me intently the whole way.

"Yeah," he breathed as I stopped beside the bed. I could tell looking at him, that I didn't need to explain myself. He didn't need to hear I'd made the decision; he knew. He could feel it; feel me.

I fought with myself not to reach out and touch him—grab him. He'd made it clear that he needed me to submit to him, and that was almost a bigger obstacle for me than the whole being with a guy issue had posed. I wanted him—fuck, I needed him—so I watched and waited for him to make the first move.

I didn't have to wait long. Turning to face me as I stood at the side of his bed, he reached out and grabbed the back of my thigh, pulling me forward until I was forced to put my knee on the mattress to prevent myself from falling forward. His other hand reached up to the back of my neck and brought my mouth down to meet his.

He pulled me further forward onto the bed, until I was kneeling between his spread thighs. Gripping me firmly by the hips, he made me sit on my heels in front of him. My body practically purred at the way he handled me. He cupped my face with both hands, kissing me hard and long, before running them freely down my back and moving his hot mouth to my neck. I could feel my pulse pound under his tongue as he licked and nipped his way down the front of my throat.

He splayed his hands roughly on either side of my ribs, pulling me forward again to meet his chest. He kicked the sheet away and lay back, dragging me on top of him, his mouth continuing his exploration of my skin. My hardening cock rubbed the bulge in his already too-tight briefs, making me gasp. I could feel his smile against my collar bone.

He rolled us over, positioning me on my back, his weight pinning me to the bed beneath him. I ran my hands down over the smooth skin of his back to his ass, feeling the muscles bunch under the thin material of his underwear. He moved his knees to either side of me, placing his hands on the bed beside me so he was hovering just above me. He kissed me hard, rubbing his erection into mine. I arched my back, raising my hips off the mattress to meet his, loving the friction caused by his hips grinding roughly over mine.

I gripped his thighs in a firm hold, digging my fingers into his hard muscles. It was amazing to not have to worry about being careful with him; I knew he could take anything I could dish out. He certainly wasn't being gentle with me either. His mouth streaked hot and wet down my throat and over my chest where he pulled my nipple between his teeth causing me to hiss with the amazing sting of pain that gave way to pleasure.

"Fuck!"

Naturally, his response was to sink his teeth into my other nipple. I fisted his hair—loving that he kept it longer because it gave me something to hold on to—and dragged his mouth back to mine. He plunged his tongue into my mouth, exploring every nook before breaking away from me again, pulling his head out of my grasp and silently reminding me that he was in charge.

He lifted himself in an arch above me on his hands and feet, looking down at my legs expectantly. I knew what he intended without him speaking a word. I spread my thighs and brought my knees up, allowing him to kneel between them. He sat with his knees spread wide, tucking himself tight against me, causing my legs to hook over his thighs. He rubbed his groin against mine again, harder, making me moan in return. He clamped his hand on my hip and worked his bulge over my own now fully hard and throbbing cock, before smirking down at me and kissing me hard and deep.

His hands and lips and tongue were everywhere and I reeled to catch up, feeling lost in the cloud of desire that enveloped me. Every time he moved I missed where he had been, only for him to move quickly to somewhere new that made my body hum. I abandoned trying to keep up with him and just gave in to the pleasure; one hand curled into the hair at the back of his neck, the other fisted in the bed sheet.

"That's right. Just feel me, Paul," he murmured into the curve of my throat.

I had never given myself fully over to anyone before, had never been able to release that grip on control and put my trust in another person, but I couldn't help it with him. He commanded total submission from my body and I gave it willingly—how could I not? I was done fighting against the imprint, I was fighting for it instead and everything finally fell into place.

His hands smoothed roughly down my sides and his thumbs hooked into the waistband of my shorts, dragging the elastic further down. I arched my hips off the bed allowing him to pull them down far enough to free my aching dick. He sat back, his eyes poring over me, before looking back to my face as he licked his palm with two wet lashes and slid his firm grip over my twitching cock.

"Ah, fuck," I growled, bucking into him. His hand was easily twice as big and way fucking hotter than any chick's who had ever given me a hand job before, and his tight hold on me felt fucking amazing—it felt right. He clamped his hand back onto my hip, holding me to the mattress as he pumped my dick slowly, watching me intently as he did. Before long he rose to his knees and bent over me, returning his mouth to my neck—sucking the hollow of my throat and biting the cords as I arched my head backward into the pillow.

My breath came in gulps and pants as he worked me over. When the familiar sensation of my coming release started to build, he slackened his grip on my throbbing cock and sat up. In a slick series of motions that my lust-addled mind didn't have a hope of keeping up with, he had me on my stomach and my shorts stripped off of me. He hauled me roughly to my knees and elbows and bent over my back, his mouth hot at my ear. He reached under me and smoothed his hand over my stomach and up to play with my nipple as he licked and sucked and bit his way down my neck and lower over my back. I pressed my ass back into his hard prick, only sparing half a thought to wonder when he'd shed his own clothes; his hissed gasp encouraged me to press harder into him.

I had never been so fucking turned on in my life; it felt like every nerve ending was on fire. I couldn't wait, I needed him.

"Oh God, Emb!" I panted under his touch. "Fuck me?" I could feel his lips pull up in a grin against the skin of my back and the gentle puff of air across my shoulder blades from his huffed laugh sent shivers through me.

"Please?" I rasped.

"I will..." he crooned, teasingly as he continued his assault on my senses. I could only groan in response to his slow, delicious torture. "I've thought about this too long to rush," he rasped, dragging his mouth over my electrified skin, his movements slow and deliberate.

His hand slid up my back and curled around the back of my neck in a firm grip, pushing my head and shoulders down to the mattress, his other hand pressing down on the small of my back, tilting my hips up and out and firmly in place against him.

I had made plenty of girls 'assume the position' before, but I'd never been put in it myself. Lying there, face down ass up, with my hips jutting back toward him, made my balls ache. Being at Embry's mercy was fucking intoxicating. I felt my wolf rear up only momentarily at the submissive position we had been put in, only to then feel him relent and give in to it; the man and wolf sides of me were united in wanting to be overpowered and claimed by Embry.

He pulled his mouth away from my skin and I missed it instantly as I felt his weight shift behind me. The light trail of his tongue over my lower back and curve of my ass made me jump and brought with it the realization of why he'd gripped my neck; he was holding me down. He grabbed my legs one at a time and pushed my knees open wide enough for him to kneel between them.

His hand left my back. The only place he touched me was his grip on the back of my neck for a lingering moment before I felt his saliva slicked fingers brush against my puckered hole, teasing and rubbing. I flinched at that first touch and he strengthened his hold on my neck.

My body buzzed with anticipation as he teased and slowly coaxed his way inside me. One finger first, which he let me get used to before spitting and working a second one into me. It burned and pulled and I knew the stretch of his cock filling me would be worse—better; I wanted him inside me. I focused on the warmth that spread through me, pushing back into his hand, until he had three fingers buried in my ass, preparing me.

He leaned over me, lightly biting my neck before his husky, strained voice was at my ear again. "You're sure, Paul?"

I ground myself onto the hand penetrating me, breathing my answer as a plea, "Yes."

"If I fuck you, you're mine," he reminded me as he withdrew his fingers. He spit into the palm of his hand and stroked himself while still holding me down to the bed. I felt him press the head of his cock to my waiting hole, and held it there. I tried to press backward onto him, but he tightened his grip on my neck.

"Jesus, Embry, fuck me!" My insistent cry turned into a guttural moan as he pushed himself into me. The stretch jumped the boarder of pleasure into pain and left me breathless, my muscles protesting and clenching tight around him. Emb bent over my back and kissed my neck while he held still within me, letting me get used to having him there. I gasped and panted, trying to find a balance between the agony and the ecstasy.

"Breathe," he whispered in my ear as he reached around and gently stroked my now only half-hard cock; having withered with the initial shock of his intrusion, he had my cock standing at full attention again in no time. He stroked me slowly and kissed across my shoulders until I gradually relaxed enough for him to start shifting within me.

"Oh fuck," I groaned, long and low with my face buried in the mattress.

He began moving, working his hips in a slow rhythm until I started to rock with him, begging him for more by arching my ass up to meet each returning stroke. His hand trailed down my spine from my neck as he sat up, and he held me by the hips, his fingers digging into my flesh on either side. His thrusts increased in strength and speed, drawing a grunt from me with each push.

Bending forward again and tucking his arm around my shoulder and across my chest, he pulled me up against his body and sat back on his heels. With the change in angle, his cock hit a spot within me that threatened to blind me it felt so fucking good. The pain-laced pleasure had me crying out and begging for more.

I couldn't control the stream of rambling nonsense that spilled from me in moans and grunts. "Fuck! There, Emb, oh God, fuck me!"

With one strong arm holding me across the chest, his hand resting lightly on my throat, his other hand returned to stroke my cock as he continued driving into me. His mouth on the back of my neck made me cry out with the overwhelming sensation of him being everywhere.

"Oh fuck yeah..." I moaned, reaching back over my shoulder to fist my hand in his hair, needing some way of grounding myself. I grabbed his hip with my other hand, feeling his muscles ripple as he pumped up into me again and again.

Sweat poured down our bodies as we moved together in an intoxicating, primal rhythm like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I was completely lost in him. The sound of damp skin slapping together hard and our combined panting breaths filled the room.

Without warning, he leaned into me and pushed me back to the mattress; I barely managed to put my arms down to catch our weight. His voice was thick and raspy at my ear again. "Turn over," he said before pulling himself away from me. I missed him immediately. "I want to see you," he breathed as I rolled on to my back.

He spread my legs and raised my knees with his hands holding the backs of my thighs, filling me again, before attacking my mouth in a rough, possessive kiss. My lips were already raw from his coarse stubble and punishing teeth, but I didn't care. I kissed him back hungrily, holding him to me by the back of the neck.

Embry drew himself back and grasped my jaw forcing me to look at him. His wolf stared back at me through his impossibly dark eyes. He surrounded me, filled me, even occupied my mind with the sound of his breath and murmured snippets of appreciation echoing my own; he was everywhere and everything.

I felt like I might explode, or implode, or evaporate or something, and knew I was close; I needed to touch myself. Reading my body like it was his own, Embry pulled up enough to grab my cock again and pumped it hard and fast, adding another layer to the complex rigors he was putting me through, which soon became completely staggering; the tingle in my spine and the tightening of my balls signalling my coming release.

"Do it," he command and I shot my load over his hand, and my stomach as a roar of pleasure erupted from my chest. My entire body tensed and my muscles contracted, squeezing tight around Embry's cock in my ass. He growled in response and fucked me hard and fast until he came inside me with a shout of my name. "Oh, fuck Paul!"

My body quivered and twitched with aftershocks as he rested his head and shoulders down on my chest in a panting heap. I threw my arms around his back and held him there until we both caught our breath.

I felt like I was made from jelly as he shifted off of me and I rolled onto my side facing him on the narrow bed. He reached his hand behind me and dragged a trail of his come between the cheeks of my ass and up my back, making me shiver.

"You smell like me," he rasped, looking down at me from where he leaned on his elbow, his nostrils flaring. His eyes were still wild and possessive as he bent to kiss me hard. "Finally," he growled before closing his eyes and sighing heavily, settling down on the bed next to me.

Laying there listening to our combined heartbeats and still heavy breaths, I could feel the toll of anxious weeks coupled with a sleepless night and a morning of exertion weighing me down, making my eyelids droop.

"You should get cleaned up before you fall asleep," he said quietly with a gentle shake to my shoulder.

"Yeah."

I somehow managed getting to my feet and walking on spaghetti legs to the bathroom and back.

I stopped in the doorway of his room, a towel around my waist, and watched as he finished re-tucking the sheets into the mattress—we'd practically tore them from the bed. I was fucking exhausted, but I felt completely calm and peaceful for the first time in weeks. I could feel from him that he felt the same.

"Can I crash here?" I asked as he turned to look at me.

"You'd better. You look like you're about to fall off your feet." He grinned at me, and I couldn't help but smile back at seeing him so content. I walked across the carpet and knelt on the bed before laying down on my stomach and wrapping my arms around the pillow. I turned my head to look at him where he stood beside the small bed. "I want you to stay anyway," he confessed with a small laugh.

I'd expected the pull to be less intense once I'd given myself to him, but it wasn't; it was different—less raw need and more content—but the draw was just as strong. I wanted to be there, too.

I reached my arm out to him, gripping his elbow and pulled him down to the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress while I fought a war in my head. I knew it was the fucking imprint, but I couldn't deny that I wanted him to lie down with me, even though I still hated the idea of needing him like that. I was too tired to fight for long though, and I shifted over to make room for him. "Lay down for a minute?" I asked quietly. He stretched out next to me on his side and tentatively rested his hand against the skin on my lower back. I sighed at the contact.

"This is totally weird," I breathed, burying my face in the pillow and arching into his touch. He spread his fingers out across my back in return.

"We can talk about it later," he spoke softly. "You need to sleep; you've got patrol this afternoon and you're a wreck."

I nodded and turned my face back to him. "What are you going to do?" I asked, wanting him to stay close.

"Honestly? I'm probably going to watch you for a while." There was no hint of shame or fear in his confession.

"That's fucking creepy, Emb," I laughed, but stopped short realizing that I didn't mind the idea; that I actually liked it. I rose to my elbow, tucked my hand around his neck and pulled him to me. I kissed him hard, forgetting that I was already half asleep as soon as my mouth touched his.

He pulled away after a few moments. "You're insatiable," he scoffed.

"Fuck," I groaned, arching up into his hand on my back again as he curled his fingers into my flesh; the hum of want running through me again and stirring me awake.

"Sleep," he insisted, relaxing his hand and laying down on his other arm folded under his head. I lay back down, too.

He brushed his thumb across my skin in a smooth calming rhythm, soothing me. It was only a short time before my eyes drifted closed and I was out cold.


End file.
